Honey Garden
by FlitzerJ
Summary: "My skin itself is an armor. My blood could never be spilled, regardless of what you do to me." "And yet, pain greets you like a friend." [KURAMAxOC]
1. Prologue 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own any of the YYH gang or plot (aside from the integrated one of my own), all rights belong to Yoshihiro Togashi.**

 **a/n: This would be my first YYH fanfic that's ever been published. However, I'll be honest and say that this has been eating my brain ever since I was a kid (obviously not as thought out) and first saw YYH. I only had the courage enough to actually publish it this time around for who knows what reason, but I am.**

 **Please bear in mind that I'm no professional. Any mistakes I make shall be apologized beforehand and do point it out so I can edit it later. . .**

 **ALSO, the main character for this story shall NOT be the only OC present here. Please note that MAJOR RECONSTRUCTION from the ORIGINAL plot has to be made in order to squeeze in my OC, otherwise she wouldn't be as rich as all the other characters are. In addition, so that no further complaints/comments/questions that would be asked, the main character is inspired by a LOT of female characters I've seen, whether it be in anime or in books that I've read. However, the biggest inspiration that I gathered from would be C.C ( _Code Geass_ ) and Shampoo ( _Ranma 1/2_ ). I did NOT steal or anything, just simply borrowed some concepts that**— **throughout the time** — **have also become repetitive in modern media as well.**

 **WARNINGS:**

 **Take heed of the rating, please. PTSD will be one of the reoccurring themes in this story, so don't be surprised when similar scenarios will pop up from time to time; all ranging from mild to strong reactions. In addition, strong language is applied along with mild sexual implication/reference (but that won't come out until somewhere late within the story). If you're uncomfortable with the latter, I assure you that I won't tend too much on it.**

 **This is a slowburn fic. Therefore things will progress SLOWLY. If you're looking for a quick spark of romance, then this is not it.**

 **Other than that, THANK YOU so much in advance if you're willing to give this a chance. A superdooper, late fanfic for the anime that drove close to my heart :)**

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

 **Part I**

* * *

 **I** was hurting.

Yet, pain seems like a swift graze from my fingertips. Mocking and laughing, gazing at me with a sneer. He held a distance—an arm's reach away, enough to hover over me with its gangly, choking hands. Enough to curl his fingers all over my skin, dipping its nails into the flesh, but lax enough to enable a soothing numbness.

Pain was there as I was sprawled haphazardly on the ground. I was at his mercy as a measly lamb was: vulnerable, weak, pathetic, and laid unmoving on the moist soil. There was a steady ringing in my ears, pronounced as it pushed any other interrupting noises into the background. I believed that ringing was the voice of pain and I was listening to its endless mantra. And that the murky, bloody sky was its color.

The sky was always red. But it was duller now, not a wisp of a purple cloud. It was scarlet and raw, only without the vibrancy. Perhaps it was the hazy fog glazing my vision, but spots of black started peppering every direction. I was just lying there—waiting for the death of a demon who would never bleed.

Who could _never_ bleed.

I was always educated about our kind—generally reserved by nature and quiet, never one to stick their nose into other's business. Sentimental, yet prided for our independence. A headstrong demon with skin as impenetrable as our horns.

And that was a curse.

I pride nothing about my horns. Nothing for my skin. Not as a lone lamb. Just a lamb. A dying one at that.

Rams run in herds. Mine is dead.

"What a wonderful world." For I haven't seen it yet.

The sky was red. But now all I see is black. Pain was there as my eyes finally fluttered closed, allowing the blood of the sky to be my last vision. Pain was there when I heard a scrunch disturb the tranquil soil, digging hard onto the ground in a steady rhythm. Pain was there when it got close, and I realized the rhythm were footsteps.

Pain was there when I felt a finger tipped my round chin to the side.

How warm.

"She's alive, but she's just a lamb. Barely able to think for herself."

"She's perfect."

* * *

Pain was a menace. Weakness was a menace. They were distracting, for fear holds you down. Prevents you. Stops you.

Feeling was uncalled for.

Then it was taken away.

Among all other emotions.

A pawn feels no conscience. A soldier feels no pain from the tips of their fingers to the soles of their feet. A warrior shows no weakness, feels no weakness, has no weakness.

A weapon has nothing. It is but an object to wield, to defend, to protect.

To destroy.

I was a weapon.

Among other demons.

My name is Lan, and I am amongst the Six Ring Demons of Ji Dianji.

* * *

 **:)**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"It's A Wonderful World"_ by HAMO (Composer) Hatsune Miku**

 ** _!_ This story has also been published in Archive of our Own in MY account, under the same username. **


	2. Prologue 2

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the YYH characters other than the OC, along with a couple more that would make an appearance soon. Any similar concepts, ideas, scenarios and such that you might find in this story amongst others would be _pure_ coincidence (I have not had the proper time to read fanfics anymore nowadays). **

**With that said, enjoy :)**

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

 **Part II**

* * *

 ** _50 years ago. . ._**

 **THE** air was coiled in tension, disguised under the night breeze that swirled and danced around the two lone figures left standing. It wasn't aimed towards the other, but the anvil of weight was shared upon both their shoulders—pressing with thick melancholy and leaving a sweet taste of bitterness. It hung in the air, lingering despite the grunts and groans of dedicated pain that emitted from one of them.

After all, _her_ weight was heavier—complete with shackled betrayal and heartbreak.

She didn't know what to say. What else was there to say, when your loved one decided to turn his back against you? Against humanity?

Nothing.

So, she let the silence reign in its throne. She let Genkai grieve.

Hanging Neck Island became a subject of taboo without being declared. The name itself was acid, the memory itself was acid, thus she didn't dare recall their victory over a month ago. When a moment of glory became a moment of hatred, ruined after that swift turn of events—of utter helplessness and disbelief, of restrained yet uncontrolled fury, and of shattered companionship.

She watched, with a scowl, as her loyal friend continue to train. Train during the day and train during the night, driving her body to hell and back to perfect her techniques. When asked of her opinion, it was already denied of imperfection, but the psychic begged to differ—there was always room for improvement. Always.

That part was far from false, yet the truth remains.

Training gave the pinkette a distraction and an outlet to project all her burning emotions and passion. Training helped her blanket all the emotional agony with a physical one. More than that, training for perfection was her purpose of life in the first place.

And she couldn't deny Genkai's purpose. A purpose that was once shared.

"How long do you plan on watching?" Tossed Genkai in mid-concentration, balancing a rapidly swirling ball of ki on the tip of a steady fingertip that hoists her perfectly upside down. A picture of impeccable balance and poise without a single tremble visible on her stretched limb and taut body; one arm tucked stiffly behind her back with only a small and—almost—unnoticeable sheen of sweat soaking the roots of cottony, pink hair as evidence to her effort.

But the collected stance Genkai held to perfection was cracked—blemished—when she glared at the ki swirling beneath her along with the occasional pants only the keenest of ears could detect.

Lan knew Genkai was glaring at her thoughts, not at her ki. Thoughts that had grilled the pinkette enough to be, for what Lan believed to be the first time, confused. A tumble that shook the psychic's unwavering confidence.

Situating herself on the veranda, sharp eyes traced each speck of white-blue lines visible on the darker, bubbling, blue ball of energy to a fault. She watched as it wavered ever so slightly—a moment of sloping deflation. A hint of frustration.

The temptation to point it out pulled on Lan's tongue, aware that her observation would either receive an irked glare or as an encouragement to further polish her moves. Genkai had always accepted her extraordinary senses with a shade of agitation.

Now was inappropriate timing, however.

With sympathy and empathy cohering within her (an aspect she could never have thought she was capable of), Lan finally had enough, frowning when the ball of energy wavered again, this time practically visible on the naked eye.

"Until you stop your foolishness."

She received no answer, and that was expected. For a split second, doubt halted her determination to finally end the sulking of her friend. For how could someone—demon, human or otherwise—had any say upon ending their grip of desolation? Had any word upon how it should be done? Yet, seeing the normally collected Genkai stumble on her words from time to time with her patience withering on the smallest of matters, then suddenly wrap snark within her words—it urged Lan to do _something_. Once and for all.

And she couldn't bear the startling pain that came with her friend's struggle. Lan was affected—damn it, she was too _oh so very much!_ —but she knew it doubled, then tripled, then multiplied into a depth of unknown for Genkai.

And so she tried again. "Genkai, Toguro—"

"Don't you _dare_ mention his name!"

The ball wobbled and inflated before it finally burst under the psychic's fingertip with a loud pop. Genkai flipped back on her toes, furiously tossing her plait of rich, pink hair over her shoulders. Lan rarely sees it unbraided nowadays, and that was before all of this. Before, the wavy locks would drape comfortably down to the petite woman's spine, flicking with every daring movement and attracting anyone with its bizarre color.

They had attracted a lot of attention. Still do. Neither cared.

Lan stood, striding towards the knotted woman with uncertain granite hidden beneath her own glare, albeit lacking the fury that was heated in the psychic. Genkai stopped her just as she reached halfway with a raise of her hand, showing her palm to halt the demoness' approach.

"Stop," she sneered. "I don't care anymore. His decision is none of my business."

Her chin dipped in all her stubbornness, ignoring the lie laced beneath her tongue obvious to both Lan and herself.

One eyebrow arched delicately at her words. "You say that in denial, Genkai."

"And what do you know?!" Genkai was raging, staring at the taller woman with a gaze of melting caramel fury, a thick layer of resentment and snake dripping from her words. She was brimming as a dam broke, and Lan stilled as the water flooded.

"You're a demon just like he is now! You know no emotions nor anything with how you were so lovingly brought up!"

The words cut through like an eager knife, and no sooner did the words fell did Genkai realized the gravity behind it. Her throat constricted. Her own body warning her of her own mistake. And Genkai swallowed too late, eyes widening at the venomous words she uttered. Horrified.

That knife twisted something somewhere within Lan. A scar that she knew would be carried unhealed for the remainder of her existence. Another that she deserved anyway.

What was once a weapon was now rusted.

Genkai and her met months ago, just shy of her new-found freedom. Her quaint dojo for human psychics drew a lot of interests like moths to a flame. After all, her name along with Toguro's was a trophy with their strength. Then Lan came along, a demoness who never meant to seek for anything of value. She was only seeing the world for the first time, a weapon turned into a naïveté. Genkai knew, she knew her in a span of months. A friend she never expected.

Toguro and Genkai had welcomed her, despite repressed insecurities.

Yet her words now felt scalding. Dismissive.

And so utterly, blatantly true.

"Lan," Genkai started, fingers reaching out towards her, wishing the demoness wasn't without layers. So patently honest and open. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

Her face fell along with her glare, the sting of regret washing away her anger.

Lan shook her head, waving the apologies away. What good would they do? It cannot change her. So instead, she said, "Apologies never hide the truth."

This time, it was the psychic who looked wounded.

"I just need you to stop." Lan buried the hurt so quickly that it made the guilt eat the pinkette more. It didn't stop the confusion to wash over Genkai, worry beginning to bubble its way to her throat.

Lan continued, this time confident that the shorter woman would not halt her approach until she placed a gentle grasp on the shorter woman's shoulder, urging the latter to hold their eye contact.

Inwardly knowing she was savoring this moment.

As a human, Genkai would age in a blink of an eye compared to her own lifespan. Genkai was already at her prime, one of the strongest Lan would say so with pride, and the latter was aware that a human in their prime could fade quicker than their ascend to their peak. Their flames of youth dwindling until it's a mere flicker. It was only justifiable that Lan treasured each second with Genkai that way. Because once upon a time, never did she sought for company, deeming it a luxury. A friend? That was a juvenile wish before. Yet here she was.

And she has to leave.

"Why?" Genkai's question was a whisper, wavering, heart clutched in desperation as she remembered Lan's words back from the day their friendship was but a bud yet to bloom.

 _"I'll have to leave, eventually."_

Genkai didn't have the strength to cover the anguish on her face when Lan repeated her words from eight months ago.

"I'll have to leave eventually."

The wind picked up from her words, blowing harder and harsher as a second dwelled. It blew stray leaves from the ground, branches howling from the pulling of their own leaves as a monstrous pause settles between the two.

Her words drew a coil that began within the weather. It did within Genkai.

As the breeze teased their hair, Genkai stared, mesmerized as tendrils of her cherry blossom locks escaped from their bind. And she stared, in dread, as the reminder of why her friend has to leave as the air tossed her pale, lilac hair into a frenzy; slipping between Lan's thick fringe and revealing a glimpse of her sealed mark on her forehead—a simple kanji of the number 'three' branded in red ink: **三**

Genkai averted her gaze from the mark almost abruptly after that chanced glimpse, trying in vain to shove away the burning reminder of who and what her friend was. Still is.

"Do you have to now?"

Frowning, Lan withdrew her hand, subconsciously raising it to her mussed fringe to tug the strands firmly over the mark. Hidden and ignored, but always creeping.

She took a step back. "I have overstayed my welcome enough."

Genkai's stomach churned, gazing at the taller woman who could not meet her eyes now. It was a long moment of silence, with Genkai unable to will her voice to say _anything_. Her words abandoned her, escaping with the shaky exhale she breathed out. Words that held no bounds. She couldn't even try to change the demoness' decision no matter how much she wanted to rebuke the idea, but the want to argue was so strong that she nearly reminded Lan that the Prince of the Spirit World already _knew_ of her existence!

But not of who she was.

Lies. They had sewn lies, just for the demoness to accompany them in the Dark Tournament. Allowed her as part of their team. The psychic still felt the lingering guilt on having to lie to the Prince of the Spirit World—another friend, but she couldn't let Lan go. Not with a history the latter chose not to write.

Still, it was against Genkai's honor to disrespect another's decision. With Toguro, disgust was evident along with hurt and infinite disappointment. Years of companionship wasted, dreams filled with passion wasted. Accomplishments. . . Everything was wasted. All because she and Toguro had been so obscured by the hatred and pain brought by one demon. Brought by Kairen. Lan was there three months prior to the tournament when it happened, she knew the horror. But like Genkai, she was mostly absent until the deed was over.

The massacre of their pupils.

Suffice to say, Toguro changed after that tragedy. Still, Genkai carried the weight of his decision with begrudging acceptance.

Yet here she was, desperately trying to string out reasons to dispute because she needed her friend at her vulnerable moment. She was weak and she hated it.

But she couldn't. Can't.

Because that was selfish. Because that was risky.

Because Lan was involuntarily dangerous.

It was only at that moment did Genkai noticed Lan's attire. The same attire she wore when she stumbled into her (and Toguro's, but Genkai just wanted to erase his very name from her mind) territory, although unknowingly.

Lan was Chinese in every way, from her origin up to her garment choices, if one would disregard the odd coloring of her hair and eyes, that is.

Genkai remembered the same dull beige of her pants of which Toguro had caused a long tear from the thigh down to the knees when he delivered an unsuspecting kick to send the demoness tumbling over a river of rocks. But the garment was fixed now, courtesy of Genkai herself, with the material slightly loose to enable comfort and free movement done with a cinch by her ankles. She even remembered replacing the red tunic that Lan previously owned, the original having been shredded by the pinkette's onslaught of reigan.

Admittedly enough, Genkai was at least glad the replacement was better suited for the tranquility that is Lan, with the shade of sapphire blue adding depth to her eyes. The garment was finished with white hemming (as the opposed to the original's bold gold), complete with a high mandarin collar and knotted frog buttons lining down the middle then tucked beneath the pants with a thick, purplish sash—the only fabric unscathed—tight around her narrow waist.

Lost in the memories plaguing her eyes, Genkai reached out to caress the short sleeves of Lan's tunic, noting that the latter let her with an almost glassy look masking what little smile she had.

How long has it been since the demoness corrected her in naming the tunic as tangzhuang?

The fact that Lan was wearing the same attire as the day she barged into Genkai's life extinguished the hope that her farewell wouldn't be now. Genkai was never one for sentiment, yet the staggering irony was blinding and squeezing.

Genkai knew, just refused to accept.

They met by fighting, one that ended with no victory. Lan was a foreign demoness unknowingly trespassing on private property and Genkai and Toguro—the one that used to be human—had acted on defense. Genkai clearly recalled with unwavering clarity on how the battle went. It was petty, she would always say; just a mere show of one party gracefully and wittingly swerving their offense as a form of defense whilst the other party was hurling said offense, confident at the obvious lack of demonic energy and blinded by the arrogance instilled by youth. They were unstoppable, were they not? A meager demon whose power is not even worthy of a class could not hinder them.

Clear underestimation on their part.

Lan had bested them. Not through sheer power, but through experience. Keen eyes predicted every move, agility and flexibility of no bounds slipped past their onslaught of attacks. Then finally, eased grace sought for their patience, because Lan _had_ surrendered somewhere during the fight.

Unwittingly, it was because Toguro had unknowingly snatched away the measly crimson cord around her neck tucked beneath her collar. A cord holding a lone ring—an unblemished, bronze-colored band. It was a moment of clarity for them, seeing the naked desperation and panic in those cerulean eyes coming from a pleading _demon._ Then they noticed just how one-sided the battle was. How glaringly _unmarred_ Lan was aside from the damage to her clothing.

She didn't bleed. Only after some time passed did Genkai learned that she _doesn't_.

It took a while until both Genkai and Toguro believed Lan to be harmless, they could feel the strength just beneath her skin. An odd predicament really, since she emitted no demonic energy of the sort.

Then little by little, she unfolded. Little by little, both Genkai and Toguro learned who she was. Little by little, the duo had—for the first time—befriended a demon and became the bridge to the first human and demon relationships. Although Lan refrained from interacting with the psychics' pupils, content on being the mysterious stranger took in by their masters slithering by the shadows. Genkai and Toguro had politely abided to her wishes, even coming to an understanding of her reasonings as time flew by.

Gripped by nostalgia, Genkai even recalled the thick breastplate the demoness used to wear, made by heavy gold and carved with red ornate patterns, along with the equally golden arm guards studded with proud rubies. Her armor as a warrior. Genkai easily remembered being fascinated by those ridiculously expensive armors before throwing it away to be replaced by a variety of simple qipaos offered by herself, and she recalled the sincere gratitude Lan had shown her afterward.

Genkai had rid of her garments that cloaked her to what she was made to be.

A silly thought, but it was reassuring at most.

"Why are you wearing that?" Genkai was at least eased to see she left out the arm guards and breastplate.

"I can't wear your gifts," Lan replied. No further explanation. She didn't need to.

It pained Genkai to know that she had been ready. But for some reason, it woke something within her. One that slowly began to drown away the sorrow, the hurt.

"You will wander." Genkai's shoulders sagged. Not in negativity, but with a resolute promise. To herself and to her friend, albeit unsaid.

"Yes." Lan nodded.

She had no place here in the first place. A slave would feel uncomfortable without their bars. Genkai had given effort to rid of those boundaries and lingering shadows plaguing her mind. A futile attempt that was appreciated, regardless.

But the pinkette already read her thoughts. Lan lived for one reason now and one only, and it dawned on Genkai upon how much this means to the demoness, other than making sure of her safety.

"You will look for her, wouldn't you," It wasn't a question. "To pay your debt."

Lan nodded. "That I will try. But I will not force it to happen," she frowned. "Us together is too great a risk."

Closing her eyes, Genkai sighed. Her posture straightened, steadily meeting Lan's gaze after a moment passed. A clash of firm brown against oceanic blue.

"Then I will only warn you of one thing."

Intrigued, Lan shuffled closer, peering into those caramel eyes that, as of late, often flashed coldly.

Now it shone with the kind of fire that the Genkai she knew possess. Hardened and rekindled, flickering to shine brightly once more.

It prompted a relieved smile behind Lan's straight facade.

"And that is?" She cocked a brow when the psychic smirked.

"That I will not hesitate to hunt you down if you will not come back before my time to meet the grave."

As a human, her years would pass by in a blink of an eye to Lan. Genkai would age, while Lan will remain the same. She along with Toguro now would not age easily. It didn't surprise Lan to know that her friend had been thinking the same line of thought as she was.

But the deeper reason was that, Genkai could not ignore the stirring within her gut that her former ally would make an appearance in the future, and she will be ready for him. But she wanted her friend, her only friend now, to be there.

It was after a second only did Lan returned the psychic's smirk.

"Alright."

* * *

 **:)**

 **Thank you so much for the positive feedback! I appreciate them all and I'm glad to have captured some of your interest.**

 **Next chapter shall finally begin in line with the original plot, of course, with changes here and there to put in Lan's own story. Some parts will include scenes from the series without Lan, so as to capture their side of the coin that is affected by her presence, whether it be minor or not. This story will be SLOW BURN. Focusing more on building friendships before the kindling romance will begin. In addition, Lan will not be depicted as an equivalent of 'backup' to Yusuke's shenanigans/assignments, unlike Kurama and Hiei (who were both initially sent as backups in the Saint Beasts Arc). She will help, but out of her own free will.**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"Orange"_ by 7!**


	3. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the original YYH characters or plot. All rights belong to Yoshihiro Togashi.**

 **A/N: PTSD will be an existing theme throughout this story; whether it be slights of flashbacks, anxiety, or immense display of regret, guilt and trauma. Since I decided my OC to be that of a sentimental being (coming from a sentimental race), emotions will be her weakest point. There will be cases wherein she cannot understand or handle some aspects due to the fact that she is lacking that sentimental and empathetic understanding from her race because of her history. Which I have given hint in the first prologue. She will learn and grow as time goes by. I'm just going to warn you in case there are parts some of you might get irritated towards her personality or see her as dull. In any case, her situation was somewhat based on real experiences.**

 **Other than that, I hope you'll enjoy :)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **o|n|e**

* * *

 **THE** moon was meek yet mischievous tonight, a sly grin pinned high above the heavens and beaming little of its tranquil glow. Despite the smooth velvet of the nude sky, the crown of pale lilac hair was unmistakeable—illuminated by the grinning moon and bringing the color of a peaceful gray mixed within the tint. Nonetheless, the lone figure of a hunched woman perched on the ledge of a looming building remained unseen and unnoticed—overlooked amongst the blinding lights emitted by the city itself.

Breathing in the familiar air about, a sense of lulling excitement wrapped around Lan's narrow shoulders like loose ribbons, easing the weight that has always been grounding onto her shoulders as a pestle would to a mortar. A weight that has long been a part of her since she could remember, yet the sight of Mushiyori City before her eager eyes brought back the welcomed warmth that only this very place could make her feel.

Nostalgia seized her, playing a repetitive cycle of certain memories and bringing forth a myriad of bubbling emotions that—until now—she still struggled to identify which is which and what is what. Nevermore what to do with them. Not that it was shunned, she relished in these quiet slip of sentimentality. A proof that she can, in fact, feel. No matter how thick her skin may be.

A single name pushed its way onto the tip of her tongue accompanied by familiar yearning. How long has it been? How many decades has it been?

Ah, yes. Fifty years had come and go.

A mere flutter of the wind in her opinion.

Fifty years may have been considered as an absurd gap to mend old friendships, but Lan didn't care. It simply did not matter. Fifty years could not rust a bond such as theirs. Besides, she did keep true to her promise. The words were 'before her time to meet her grave', and from all the rumors encircling the famed psychic, that time is far from now.

In the time Lan was gone, Genkai had become stronger and deadlier, as from the sincere fear shared amongst lower demons. A threat to those who dared crossed paths with her. It was only in genuine pride did Lan responded to those rumors whenever she chanced to hear about the ruthless Genkai, unable to believe at times that this person was a friend of hers and had the honor of fighting alongside with.

It was unavoidable. Wherever she went, news about the pinkette followed her from random conversations with some demons or with other psychics—mostly with the latter, who spoke of Genkai with profound respect. Other methods required eavesdropping, and Lan certainly relied more on that. Still, it had surprised her to know that Genkai's fame had spread everywhere until she was certain that she had underestimated the short woman before.

Her name was simply everywhere.

Or at least, to the places where Lan has been to.

Such as when she was wandering about the region of Tohoku—specifically in Sendai—enjoying the splendid City of Trees when she first caught wind of Genkai's reputation, the news so recent from her departure that it had momentarily shaken her. From then on, Lan only began to discover about the extent of Genkai's repute as she traveled further north, passing the cities of Matsushima, Ishinomaki, Kamaishi, Miyako, Hachinohe _,_ and until she arrived at the quiet prefecture of Aomori.

No matter the distance she extended from her travel, a drop of Genkai's name was a common gossip amongst demons and psychics, further escalated from their victory during the last Dark Tournament. And as to whether or not she was recognized, Lan made no effort in announcing her identity nor tried to bring attention to herself. That was the least of what she wanted and needed, which also pressed a sense of guilt when she felt relieved that most talks about the Dark Tournament were about the sudden change of heart of the Toguro brothers to instill any importance about their other—and less significant—teammates.

Lan made sure to remain neutral when she heard his name. It was only Genkai that she cared for now. Well, Genkai and a fox, whom she trusts was well living her own life.

In other words, she took each news about the pinkette to quell her own concern. Eased, Lan was left to admire her journey of no destination. Tohoku was a hilly region with beautiful terrains that the more she admired, the more she couldn't believe her eyes. She'd never seen such blend of colors before. How could she, when she was more accustomed to the dry wonder of Makai _—_ a world of red skies, red waters, and red land. Land spilled with blood. That was all of what she knew before.

Ningenkai, on the other hand, was a world of multifarious colors—each showing a multitude of shades, hues, and tints far more than one can name. The terrains could only grant a significant area meant for humans and so, Lan traveled within the heart of the woods mostly, never staying at one place for too long. Each day gave her another insight, another wonder, and another comprehension. She inhaled what she could of what the world offered and she wanted more. The fact that it was getting colder the further up north she went was better. Lan actually welcomed that weather, only a few kinds of demons could withstand a climate that brumal, which meant that her chance of encountering another was one to a hundred.

At that moment, solitude was what she needed and what should be given to her.

Lan had lost track of anything Genkai-related when she crossed to Hokkaido, and she remembered correctly how anxious she had become at some days without hearing a word about the pinkette. Not many psychics nor demons resided on that island, and so Lan didn't stay long.

Yet instead of going back, she crossed to another country. Which soon evolved into countries, as much as she dared to. There was this vast land of a strange and stiff language called Russia; a familiar yet foreign atmosphere of Korea; a diverse, yet nonetheless interesting culture of the nomadic Mongolia; then there was her origin, China. These were just some of the many countries she passed by.

It was a risk going back there, in China. Yet Lan couldn't resist sentiment. Arguably, it was the country she settled into the longest. Though it was mostly spent with hopping from city to city; province to province; and from mountainous terrains to quiet valleys. And then, for a moment there, she was at lost on what to do next.

Her purpose was gone now. Insignificant. Rejected by her own choice made fifty years ago. Then, there was also the fact that she knew no identity to describe herself other than who she was. What can the world possibly give her now? Or, rather, what could _she_ offer?

So she left again. Meeting and crossing demons alike that were soon forgotten after a day.

Lan traveled to a lot of places, trying in vain to seek something. Of what, she didn't know.

And yet, here she was. Years later, perched on the very edge of a towering building in a place that offered little natural wonder after decades of urban development. Back to the very city she first landed in the light of her new-found freedom fifty years ago. The very city that soon led her to the mountains where Genkai's temple was located.

 _'Enma, I must be going mad.'_ Giving a wry grin at the oblivious human-filled vehicles going to and fro, Lan straightened to her fullest height, calculating the distance between the building she stood on to the normal ground. Her mind tossed useless blames, directing most of it to the recent talk of Genkai's new disciple. Otherwise, she wouldn't be here. Risking her freedom from Reikai and possibly risking Genkai due to allegiance.

But she was curious.

 _'I am mad.'_ With a final shake of her head, Lan pushed from the balls of her feet and leaped with a twist of her torso. Free falling with her arms stretched wide, letting the chilling wind dance wildly all over her in a vain attempt of slowing her fall. The cold slipping beneath her attire felt relaxing, a slap to her dormant adrenaline. Then in quick procession, Lan swiftly brought her legs up to break her fall in a sharp flip, landing silently onto the next roof in a crouch.

Her lips pulled back to show a grin, first directed at the tiled roof beneath her feet before raising it towards the peaks of the mountains, where she knew the Demonic Forest exists. And nearby, the humble abode of her friend. Several hours travel at most.

She could be arriving in a steady, well-mannered pace. A decent one. But she couldn't hold herself any longer. It felt good, very much so, to have a place to go back to.

To have a place to call home.

And so with another push from the soles of her light feet, Lan vanished from sight. A burst of demonic speed; a race with the wind and evading public places—Lan headed towards Genkai's temple.

She wasn't surprised at all that it took her only by a slim number of hours _—_ just two, to be exact, or less _—_ to cross the city (hopping from roof to roof before stealing a ride atop a moving train) and delve within the thick forest, taking her favored transportation of all: the trees. Her smile hadn't wavered an inch since, fueled by the thought of the nearby reunion with her friend. The burning elation inside her was enough to ward off any pessimistic thoughts, scenarios that could go wrong along with the possibility of facing the wrath of Genkai. Though she wasn't harboring any measures of fear towards the last possibility, Lan would rather not escalate to that.

When she breezed by the extensive, worn stairs, Lan already found herself facing the familiar entrance of the temple and, once more, her mind spun a memory of when she had bid farewell on this very spot; staring at the face of the only place she would dare call home with a promised smile.

A promise she was now fulfilling.

The smooth wall that forbids any daring trespassers stood as tall as she remembered, if only a little dull on the paint, with the strong grey fading into an ashen tint. As for the gate itself, it had weathered greatly. Strong still, but not as vibrant as it was before. Acting on impulse, her hand reached out to caress the heavy wooden doors as if to welcome an old friend, a faint smile on her face when she suddenly halted.

Wards. An abundant amount of wards were placed all over the gate _and_ the walls to repel any demons cheeky enough to enter.

Lan snapped out of her nostalgia haze, stunned. Just then, taking advantage of her minor shock, a particular scent sunk its way deep into her nostrils, similar to that of the putrid breaths emitted by those wheeled vehicles. Only with a hint of flavor _—_ and teasing. An infuriating kind of teasing.

Tobacco.

Lan recoiled with a wrinkle of her nose, heatedly glaring at the gate as if it was the one responsible all along. And to further mock her sanity, the ancient torii seemed to loom over her incredulously, in disbelief at her irk before it hurls her overdue return as a reminder that she had no right to feel that way. She should be the one groveling apologies.

She huffed.

And so, with a shake of her head to rid of the scent, Lan scored the wall, eyeing for the weakest point she could weasel pass the wards. Knowing Genkai, finding a weak point would be an immensely difficult task—impossible for most demons. It was obvious that any other demons would be reeling and curling their lips into a sneer by now, backing away at the lost opportunity. Her hand was already tingling in the shadow of pain, but that didn't discourage her.

Scaling even further until she was far from the entrance where the stairs led her, Lan wondered why the psychic would place wards now. Genkai hadn't done so before, confident in her strength and prowess. Now, it hung on almost every niche, a glaring warning to any ambitious demons.

But if the pinkette was really that hopeful, or at least sure of her eventual return, Genkai would leave one spot. One spot that only with Lan's keen set of eyes and sensitive touch would find. And since the famed psychic is aware of her unusual—even more heightened—senses, Lan was confident that Genkai was confident that she could pass through the repelling energy unscathed.

And pinpointing the spot Lan did.

With a triumphant smirk, Lan felt the decline of the scalding energy on one area of the walls, west from the entrance and with a considerable distance in between. Once found, she didn't waste a second and with a quick leap to flip herself over the walls, she broke through the barrier; willfully locking her jaw and gritting her teeth at the searing pain that engulfed her entire body momentarily from her plunge. The torture was quick, done in seconds flat before she landed safely on the other side. Intact and unscathed, if not a little shaken.

 _'Her wards have gotten stronger.'_ Lan shakily pushed herself away from the walls before pausing to catch her breath, lowering herself in a crouch from the aftereffects of that powerful sear. One hand carefully rubbed her temples whilst the other steadied her weight with her palm flat on the ground. Genkai had surely outdone herself—even in wards, and that was already the weakest point she had found. Lan doubted there would be another.

As far as she could tell, there are no other wards stronger than Genkai's. None but this one had rendered Lan breathless and stopping to catch her breath—sucking in needed air in hungry gulps. She had to give credit when its due.

Smiling a wry smile, Lan pushed herself to stand once she was sure she had her wits back and her body wasn't shaking with tremors.

She looked around and sagged.

' _I'm here.'_

Releasing out an anxious breath she wasn't aware, Lan took in the same, vast front yard of the front hall of the temple. The front yard itself remained the same, as if not a day had gone by from her absence. Memories played back and forth once more in the comfort of her old home, warming and wrapping her deprived self.

In her nostalgia, she saw an image of a younger Genkai and herself discussing random matters by the wide veranda of the front hall, both leaning on their elbows propped on the wooden railings; then she saw another memory, this time of her own self facing the towering frame of the younger Toguro, the day he had—for the first and only time—conveyed his affections towards the pinkette to Lan, explaining a greater deal on what it felt like and how it was in a vague yet still helpful manner.

It had also been the time he had vocally expressed his acceptance of Lan as a trusted comrade. She had been so rooted with this uncommon zap of astonishment then—so frozen that he had laughed out of polite amusement.

It was a pleasant memory, yet shadowed from what happened next. . .

Lan shook her thoughts out of that territory, swallowing the lump in her throat at the images of her once friend. She hadn't regarded him in the same level of friendship as she had with Genkai, the latter having been more adamant and active in breaking past her walls. Regardless, Toguro had helped her a lot with her naivety at that time, kind and patient with her confusions towards empathy. Compared to Genkai, Toguro was more sentimental. Ambitious. Passionate even in words. His sentimentality was what awakened Lan's hereditary persona. Rams were supposed to be creatures of emotions.

In a way, he was her pillar.

 _'What a pity of what you became to be now, Toguro.'_

With a short blink, Lan saw another memory to discard the previous. This one was her very first of this temple: battered and worn, flanked by Genkai and Toguro, both of which were in an equal or worse state than she was. The three of them walked up to the entrance of the front hall, a younger Genkai leading and sliding the doors open whilst Toguro trailed behind in caution. It was after their encounter (a very sudden and confusing fight to Lan, considering that the two just popped out of nowhere while she was wandering the forest with not a clue where to set her foot next), and the two humans were bringing her to their temple to gauge her intentions even further. Deciding only then that if she really does bring no harm despite her capabilities, will they release her from their guard.

None of them had expected friendship to bloom whilst educating the clueless demon she was then.

She smiled.

"AAARGH!"

Snapping out of her reverie, Lan whipped her attention towards the training hall just to her left, hastily bringing herself back to the present. The scent of smoke has faded, to her relief, but while she caught the familiar peach and tea scent—cloaked in that lingering stench of tobacco—of Genkai's, Lan was aware of another. A masculine scent, reeked of sweat and pine.

Her student.

Curious about the strangled yell (she was fairly certain it was laced with thick aggravation and fury), Lan decided to see for herself and started walking briskly towards the training hall. The one she had accidentally destroyed. Once. An unforgettable tale.

She did help rebuilt that too.

As she came nearer towards the training hall, it wasn't long until Lan could hear bits of some undergoing conversation. An intense, undergoing conversation.

"You're insane. Senile! The wackiest old hag I've ever met!"

"Quit your whining, dimwit. Your twelve hours are up."

"You're killing me, you bitch. What kind of training do you want me to do?!"

"Unless you finally learn how to control and concentrate your reiki, then you'll have to do that again!"

Silently sliding the door to the training hall, Lan peered inside before letting herself in, carefully sliding the door back close in the same manner. Quiet.

The sight that greeted her made it difficult to decide whether to smirk or to chuckle in response. As a result, her lips wobbled.

She was surprised. Lan didn't expect Genkai's disciple to be so _young_ —a young, adolescent boy who's currently clad in clothes drenched in sweat; his mess of raven locks greased with perspiration as pesky strands clung to his forehead, barely tickling a pair of deep, chocolate eyes that were currently drawn into a heated glare.

It was pleasing enough to know that the boy wasn't scrawny, judging by the sheen of moisture emphasizing his toned biceps. No one could ever survive a fight with Genkai if they couldn't hold their own.

Sweeping her eyes over his slumped form on the floor, Lan flicked her gaze to the person she was most adamant to see. The one she had been delighted to cross over dozens of cities and another country for—only to find caramel eyes already staring right at her.

Lan almost gasped.

Enma, had she _aged!_

Gone was the vibrant Genkai whom Lan remembered. She very well expected the pinkette to age and had long started preparing herself for the knowledge but, the staggering reality was far from what Lan expected. Genkai—though still clad in a similar attire she used to wear before—appeared shrunken and smaller with the baggy and loose garment composing most of her bulk; hanging by the sleeves and by the ankles of her pants. It left a foreign taste in Lan's tongue, sour at the fragile façade it gave the psychic to see her sunken beneath her clothes, though it would be foolish to believe so.

Genkai's eyes looked different—lacking the allure and mischievous glint Lan had been accustomed to. Her pink hair had been cut just to tease an inch past her collarbone and had withered to a dull shade, a dying shadow of its once vibrant pink. What was once a beautiful waterfall of soft, tiny curls were now reduced stringy straws.

Lan frowned to herself.

Genkai had greyed.

"Oi, Hag?" The boy shuffled closer on his knees, waving a hand before the psychic's stoic and unrelenting gaze. "Are you even listening to me, you old ghoul? What are you looking at?" And then he followed the direction of her gaze.

Three things happened at once.

First was the sudden clamping of uncertainty, making Lan freeze right on the spot as two pairs of tough, brown eyes gazed right at her. One with a look she couldn't fathom and the other with open confusion, followed by a hint of bashfulness and a brief flush of his cheeks. Lan was certain that she probably resembled a child waiting for a scolding, though she hoped it wasn't obvious. Instead, she held her stance and remained blank and tall, letting the small smile falter her indifference along with the pleading in her eyes.

Second was the brief flicker in Genkai's eyes. One that Lan couldn't, for the life of her, reel in. There was irritation, followed by a welcomed surprise, then warmed by joy and an overwhelming relief summarized by a quirk of her lips. It was enough to extinguish the doubt and worry in Lan. She returned the look with her own, stretching the smile into a grin.

Lastly, the boy simply stated a question.

"Who are you?"

* * *

 **:)**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"Soba Ni Iru Kara"_ by Amadori**


	4. Chapter 2

**Standard Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **t|w|o**

* * *

 **AFTER** a long moment of silence whilst their tea sat piping hot, the three occupants each sat on a thin zabuton to protect their legs from the cold of the floor; all of them circling around the lone television in the otherwise bare living room—save for the thin tatami mats to add contrast on the otherwise drab wood of said floor.

Genkai had long opted to switch the television on, flicking between limited channels until she found the soap opera she was interested enough to follow, though she kept the volume nearly muted enough knowing that she wouldn't be able to give her attention to tonight's episode. Then again, the mere purpose of switching on the appliance was to lessen—if not to completely diffuse—the expected tension to come.

Once the air of awkward shuffling following their reunion was immediately dealt with, Genkai had urged the two to follow her back into the living room to kill the short dawn of silence. She wasn't patient enough to wait for her disciple to gather himself, letting him scramble to his feet whilst tossing curious glances over his shoulder. The pinkette could sense his agitation beneath the wonder of seeing someone. . . well, Genkai was accustomed to seeing people become stuttered by the appearance of her friend.

It was always amusing, really.

However, she was nearly overwhelmed by the quiet jerk of her heart when Lan seemingly appeared out of nowhere—strummed at the face of an old comrade. But the urge to chat over a serving of mantou was quelled only for the sake of her disciple.

First, introductions were in order. Thus, Genkai sent the boy to clean himself while she went to prepare some tea for all of them, which was done after storing her tubular pipe to cool down after a bout of smoke. Lan had obediently remained by Genkai's side after the latter's student had gone to make himself decent. Surprisingly enough, he had no retorts to his mentor's clipped orders this time, rushing despite the fatigue weighing his limbs.

Genkai had to chuckle to herself at that. She may be old, but she was no fool. The brat was flustered—and suspicious. Suspiciously flustered with the last glance he gave over his shoulder before leaving.

When he was gone, Genkai took that short opportunity to mutter under her breath, meant only for the demoness' sharp ears.

"Let me do most of your introduction. Say nothing but your name."

Confused, Lan grew wary by that statement, and she made Genkai aware of her opinion with a quick look. To which, the psychic returned with a shake of her head. She would have to explain later, after her new brat slipped into slumber. Until then, they would have to wait.

Preparing the tea had been quick, most of the time spent waiting for the water to boil in the kitchen while the two calmly let the quiet speak, taking it as their time to drink in tiny details that have changed from each other.

Lan expected little or nothing to change within the temple. Genkai wasn't one for refurbishing and just let things stay where they started. She knew that and yet, the slight quirk of her lips couldn't be helped after entering the familiar cramped space. Still the same, if not aged just like everything she's seen so far.

Without meaning to, the demoness recalled the time when she spied Genkai and Toguro preparing dinner once—that one time when both were occupying the room because of a heated argument. She had forgotten the reason behind that particular quarrel and the duo had numerous of those—some petty, some not—that it had escalated into their very own way of communicating. Lan figured their headstrong nature was what pushed them to be debating and arguing most of the time, whether it was about a trivial matter or no. Oddly enough, it was also the foundation of their relationship, which usually ended with the both of them laughing it off.

But that particular argument had the two grinding on each other's nerves—Genkai verbally more so, and continued to spew degrading insults at the younger Toguro. Lan could never figure out why they decided to settle their fury with cooking (they ended up having no dinner at all since the results were inedible), but the amusement watching the two waddle and slither in such a tight space—add the fact that Toguro was man of bulking muscle—was what made both humans swivel their fury towards her at the noise of her mocking chuckle, a hint of rosy cheeks painting their complexion in part embarrassment and part annoyance.

Such were the days.

The kitchen had been alive then; steaming smoke that carried mouthwatering aromas, filled with moments of Genkai attempting to teach Lan how to cook. There was no improving result, but Genkai wasn't an expert in culinary either.

Seeing the room so empty and hollow now flamed the dormant anger within Lan. It would've been lively still today, with or without her absence draping a sense of depression. If only Toguro. . .

Lan shook her head to stop the turn of her thoughts yet again. Bemoaning of what was lost will solve nothing, and time will go on still.

Meanwhile, Genkai's gaze remained fixated on Lan all throughout her musing, her hips idly leaning against the counter beside the sink with her arms crossed.

Genkai inclined her head in thought.

She had stayed the same. No outrageous changes—yet different from the withdrawn individual Genkai remembered.

Observing the demoness now as she subconsciously pulled open a cupboard and reached for three, ceramic yunomi cups (ones which Genkai realized were their usual teacups a long time ago) before setting them on a wooden tray, Genkai noted the little differences her friend now possessed. Except for her hair, perhaps. Lan's hair still fell in its thick, flowing volume in the same tint of soft lilac. If anything else, it had grown longer, from when it ended to the middle of her back to tumbling down to her hips.

Back in the days of her early twenties, Genkai looked back on how her own daring pink locks would clash against Lan's gentle lilac. They were—once upon a time—compared to dancing petals in battle, becoming nothing but blurs of cherry and lavender. Their tandem had been admired by many, if not legendary, though Lan had always been overshadowed by the younger Toguro. She preferred it that way.

Aside from the obvious growth of her hair, there was a healthy peachy tone to the pigment of her skin, Genkai noted with relief. It made the pinkette recall how ridiculously pale Lan used to be—pasty and pearly.

But what Genkai couldn't shake since the moment their gazes locked was the significant change in Lan's eyes. Of what, the pinkette wasn't sure, but it was obvious that the demoness had gained something in the years she was away. Gone was the mist of confusion and naivety often overlaying those oceanic eyes. Genkai was unsure whether it meant a good change or no, but for Lan to come back and stood by her promise meant that nothing drastic happened.

Of course, Genkai couldn't confirm that until later. Which was why she remained stoic, mute—observing until the kettle began to whistle and the two prepared tea without words exchanged. Lan had taken it upon herself to carry the tray as she followed Genkai back into the living room while the latter took out three aftermentioned zabuton cushions then switched the television on. It was all done in quick movements, ending with the psychic steadily settling herself on a cushion before reaching for a cup of tea, blatantly ignoring the presence of Lan sitting beside her now as opposed to her open observation earlier.

Her student chose that moment to enter. Clean, fresh and garbed in comfortable clothes with his messy tresses slightly damp.

"Hey," he greeted, striding to plop down on his own cushion situated to Genkai's left (though he sat facing across Lan) before assuming the same air as his teacher's without bothering his own steaming cup. Truthfully, the pinkette was pleasantly surprised to see him composed now, rid of his disconcerted jittering and decidedly collected.

Which failed by the obvious twitching of one index finger and the occasional glances.

Genkai inwardly chuckled and sighed at the same time due to the lack of control he had. She didn't even need to see the other's reaction; certain that Lan was mirroring the anxious glances in a much subtler manner, excluding the avid curiosity visible in her disciple's eyes. Instead, Lan sat brimmed with caution.

With his weak patience, her pupil eventually caved.k

"All right, hag. We're all here and dandy and I appreciate the tea, it's lovely,"—both females arched a brow at the untouched cup of his now cooling tea—"But who the hell is this?"

His words were supported by his glare, unheated and lacking of his usual gritty front. It was simply his grumpy nature hiding the open wonder no doubt gearing his mind. In fact, Genkai had no doubts that the delinquent had no inkling of an idea upon who their visitor for tonight is. Not everyone does, since even she herself was unaware prior. . . everything else.

But that was not what concerned Genkai. He'll have to remain clueless for now. Not until he knew Lan as well as she did.

Nonetheless, Genkai still scowled at his tone.

Surprisingly, to the delinquent, their visitor appeared to be amused. First by the telltale widening of her cerulean eyes along with a swift lift of her lips.

He scowled. "What?"

"Forgive me," Lan forced herself to wipe away the smile. "The similarities between you two is astounding." In her peripheral, she witnessed the frown of Genkai's grow deeper. "Or at least, she _once_ was like you."

Clearing her throat, Genkai quickly composed herself, narrowing her eyes at the mild disbelief and annoyance etched all overher disciple's face.

"Behave yourself, Yusuke." Was her firm order, and the effect was immediate; his mouth clamping shut as she lowered her cup back on the tray.

Lan thinned her lips to resemble a collected persona. _'This boy is a trophy of Genkai's characteristics.'_

"Good," nodding to herself, Genkai rewarded Yusuke a prim smile. To which she received a rather mocking and rotten one in return. All in good nature when it comes to him.

Churning yet another clear of her throat—louder than the previous—Genkai pinned the two a dismissive look. A rather ludicrous aspect to behold. It would've been acceptable in Yusuke's case, but reprimanding someone who is much more ancient than she, despite appearance's sake, was odd. Nonetheless, Genkai adapted a sedate expression—rid of her wonted frown and familiar glare to exert a welcoming vibe towards the demoness as well as to loosen the suspicious aura Yusuke had adapted.

"Just to answer your inquiry, Yusuke, our rather unexpected—" prompted by a quick meaningful glance and replied with a wince of guilt. "—guest tonight is an old friend of mine."

Lan took that as her cue to offer a thin smile, carefully poised to cloak the scrutiny and hesitance beneath cool eyes. And to rid of any possible hostility, she offered a small bow of her head. A polite and neutral greeting she had learned years ago that most humans in this region preferred to use, especially in introductions.

"It is a pleasure to meet Genkai's student. My name is Lan." She said after Yusuke returned the bow, albeit slow and hesitant; brows pinching to further escalate his bafflement.

"Yeah," he mumbled, eyes raking all over her placid posture.

Questions about her heritage dimmed at the obvious foreign design of her attire. Though admittedly, Yusuke was more drawn to her eyes. A curious shade of blue, relating that to the cerulean of the sky, though not as quite. Rather, the shade more resembled the depth and vibrancy of the ocean.

Intrigued yet chary—a clash of his open persona and the expected mistrustful approach of the ragged Urameshi Yusuke—he gradually eased the curling fingers of tension off his shoulders, allowing them to settle back into their sockets as he finally shifted his gaze with a glint of amiable mischief.

"It's nice to meet you too, I guess."

Pulling her eyes away from her disciple's expression upon observing, Genkai spoke to Lan this time.

"And this is my beloved student, Urameshi Yusuke." A smirk from her and a grunt from Yusuke spoke its real meaning.

Yusuke cracked a small grin for Lan—typically crooked and pulled by playful arrogance—sheepishly rubbing a finger beneath his nose as he tipped himself backward with a quick placement of his palm behind him.

He was, both women realized, removing altogether any qualms of suspicion and such.

Quick and bold, but foolish and reckless.

Lan didn't expect the quick swipe of suspicions, the simple action momentarily jarring off her thoughts.

No one could ever be that improvident. Almost every person Lan met took well-deserved time into warming up to her character, reading her indifferent impressions and blank facade to be riddled with malignancy. That and the fact that she has taken upon the reputation of being no one at all. None knew of her in makai, thus none knew of her in ningenkai—name, face and beyond.

Having that clean slate is a simple warning for anyone to not place an ounce of trust in her, which suited her isolated self just fine.

The clean slate is clearly a false assumption.

Being no one is far from who and what she really was.

Anyone who could think should have the right to be wary of her.

Then this Urameshi Yusuke dropped the snarling act the second their names were exchanged.

 _'Perhaps that human greeting is far more efficient than I thought_ , _'_ peering at the open and expectant gaze of the boy, she frowned at the lacking scent of fear or anxiety. No worries nor skepticism. Nothing but impatient wonder coming from him. And, if she wasn't mistaken (as always), a flicker of competitiveness. _'Or is he simply manic?'_

"So," cutting off her chain of thoughts, Yusuke continued. "You're Chinese, right? I mean, the hair threw me off but, your accent's kinda different."

Lan nodded, deciding to imitate his own comfortable composure. "Born and raised, in Makai."

Seemingly uncaring about her race, Yusuke shrugged in vague acceptance, oblivious to the quick glance Genkai shot at the demoness for her quick drop of origin. Lan didn't really think it was suspicious. Someone training under a psychic (especially someone as renowned as Genkai) should know what she is just by spiritual awareness alone. And the boy seems to possess an open mind if he doesn't categorize all demons as evil, despite having most of its population are.

"I figured you are. Kinda strange since I can't feel any of your youki, but I'm not really good at that." Yusuke mused, leaning further with a slouch of his back. The observation was peculiar at most due to his obvious, nonexistent talent for sensing auras of others as he had stated. He never was one to dig around, opting to just meet whatever it is before him head-on. But the intrigue was there.

Yusuke was certain that her strength should be unparalleled as well. He would expect just as much with her allegiance with the hag. But if she didn't have that much of a presence, then what power does she have?

Lan simmered, his remark causing a slow waltz of tapping insecurity to tremble down her spine at the mere mention of her absent—or rather, _covert_ youki. His observation was accurate, and very much acceptable. Yet day after day, the hovering fear of her energy suddenly leaking out of her skin has always made her conscious.

A ticking reminder.

One slip and Reikai will enclose her into another set of bars.

Feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, Genkai could practically taste the thoughts coming from Lan. Fifty years could never change the ease of reading her.

"Yes, you are correct," she took another sip of her tea as she addressed her disciple. "However, her absent youki does not define her skills, I assure you."

Yusuke was aware, yet didn't indulge that he was.

"Oh?" He quirked a curious brow over the sound of slurping tea, eyes trained at the foreigner. "I've met others masking their energy, and they turned out to be more powerful than those who don't." Slowly, a massive grin stretched his lips, matching his brazen attitude with the crooked tilt of his lips.

A light bulb lit in his mind, but before he could utter a word, Genkai detached her lips from her cup and stated a single word.

"No."

Yusuke's reaction was instantaneous, one of which made Lan observe how similar this boy was to that of a younger Genkai. At least, in some ways.

"Oh, come on, hag! I've been doing all these bullshits you keep on telling me to do and I can't even ask one request?!"

"Precisely."

"What the fu—"

"At least," a glare matching a glare. "Not yet."

Lan had to resist shaking her head at the way the boy seemed to deflate instantly, a dumbfounded look taking over his irate glare as he stared at his master with wide eyes.

"Huh?"

However, Genkai wasn't looking into the eyes of her disciple. Instead, she swiveled her gaze right at Lan, passing a heavy message through sheer eye contact alone. It made the latter slowly cradle the weight within her, one that she's been carrying since in gentle defense. A denial to share a secret. Still, she was not prepared for the way her very heart froze as the words tumbled out of Genkai's mouth.

"Yusuke is here to train as my disciple, and to become a better Reikai Tantei under Koenma's service."

* * *

Lan had lost count how many times she had resisted the urge to flinch away from Genkai's disciple in an uncontrollable sense to protect herself. She had lost count how many times she had faded away from the introductory conversations led by Genkai, often supported by the boy, and rarely did she even contribute.

The whole time, Lan wasted it by trying to squash the burning within her chest to stand and just walk away—curbing it to halt the itching of her fingers to welcome the grasp of her old weapon she knew was hidden somewhere within the temple.

She was willing yet unwilling to play as her fear's puppet.

Then to add to her already troubled mind, her throat went dry as her thoughts conjured more thoughts of the Spirit World stripping her bare of her secrets. Exposing her for who she really was and ridding her of her undeserved freedom.

' _No. . .'_

But that was not the end to her worries. No, what comes after her imprisonment would be the scattering of words. Rumors—rumors that would reach far and wide, and surely reaching the place where she was made.

' _No more.'_

They'll want her back. A force that not even the Spirit World could fully handle.

' _No more!'_

One hand reached out to grasp the roots of her fringe, gripping it tight in snarling fury with her palm pressing a weight on the mark of her forehead. A startling mnemonic—a laughter and mockery of what she was and always will be.

The mark that defined her.

It took her one stretching moment to notice the tremors that rocked her spine and jerked her shoulders, and Lan realized like a slap to her face as to what it was.

Fear. The complete dominance of fear that hugged her form tight and snug. A reminder of the very reason of what she has been running from for fifty years.

 _'Why.'_ The word did not come as a question, but as a quiet plea.

She was tired. She came back to reunite with her friend in peace and to avoid the regret she knew would come if she failed to visit Genkai before her death.

She did not come back for _this_.

Shaking her head, Lan gripped her fringe tighter, ignoring the twinge of pain with a shut of her eyes.

 _'Why. . .'_

"Fifty years and this is still the first place you come to."

Calloused fingers gently eased the tight hold she had on her hair, frail and gnarly compared to the firm softness Lan remembered her friend's hands used to be. Still, the action only caused her to bow her head in shame, despite obeying the silent command to release the painful hold on the purplish locks. In the back of her mind, the familiar dark voice tried to reach out once more—screaming how she did not deserve this friendship, this kindness.

She drew a shaky inhale.

"Fifty years does not change this spot." Was her reply. A tad small and soft to her liking, but Lan has nothing to hide with Genkai.

It was only after an hour passed did Genkai ceased their conversation with Yusuke. Seeing Lan uncooperative and nonresponding prompted the pinkette to shut the television (long forgotten and playing a fatuous show none of them cared) and announce the late hour, throwing a threat of tomorrow's schedule for Yusuke to haul himself up and put himself to bed. He would need rest, that Genkai was sure of.

The young detective had—over the hour-long conversations—felt the weight of the demoness' subtle glances towards him. Glances that were accusingly filled with suspicion. Those should be from him. Not her. Yet he took note of her calm demeanor prior and deemed that his very persona was not the cause of her caution.

 **x**

 _"Is she alright?" The question was thrown before his feet lead him back to his quarters, confused and just a tad bit concerned after Lan left in haste with nothing but a mutter of goodnight._

 _Genkai turned to face him and nodded._ _"Yes."_

 _He didn't believe her. It was evident in his gaze. But he has no words left, nor could he offer anything else since he still doesn't know anything about Lan. Thus, he opted for his usual gaiety self to speak._

 _"Well, she looks kinda scared. If you scare her too much, tell her I can help her with that."_

 **x**

It was an offhanded comment meant for humor to diffuse the strained atmosphere that befell the duo. Genkai still remembered the look of concern momentarily crossing the adolescent's gaze that also gave a deeper meaning to his statement, though his awkward shrug showed how flustered and uncomfortable he still was. No matter, it was enough to have gratitude bloom within Genkai.

When he was gone, Genkai finally dropped her mask of stoicism, shoulders sagging in concern with the purse of her chapped lips. The action emphasized the lines on her aging face, and for a quick moment, she wished Yusuke wasn't Koenma's little errand boy. His profession is much too complicated—despite Yusuke's good graces—for her to trust Lan's secret with him.

The thought was followed by guilt clenching its fingers around her old heart.

Yusuke was not the one at fault here.

Sighing, Genkai brought herself back at the present. Back at the tiled roof of her temple. This spot had gone unvisited ever since Lan's departure. It was her spot after all. Genkai knew that Lan would be here right after their introductory conversation, and she was right. Still, her old age was not prepared for the onslaught of memories that uprooted with the latter's return. The very spot of this roof faced the calm face of the moon, which Genkai knew was her friend's first quiet companion, one where she first found comfort in. Lan had described the moon as loyal, a silent griever when she could not.

In addition, this very spot was also where Genkai had first explained an inkling of what humanity is for the naive woman back then; the very spot that made Genkai strip her bare of secrets; the very spot where Genkai had first explained the depth of her feelings towards Toguro, what love is in general and the many shades of it.

Lastly, this was the very spot where the two had first despaired for their lost friend.

Looking back at it now, Genkai compared herself to be a mother explaining things to a child. With her age and Lan's predicament, it felt no different.

"My presence is not welcome here."

Lan's voice stirred Genkai from her thoughts, looking down at the crown of mauve hair patted by the moonlight. With the former sitting down, the height difference wasn't so bad.

"At least, not at the moment."

Confident that she would not strangle her fringe and dig the heel of her palm to her forehead no more, Genkai took a seat to Lan's right with a sigh.

"You are welcome. Very much so," Genkai stated, her heart almost ashamed at the leak of vulnerability beneath her tone. "His profession is just a hindrance."

At this, Lan scoffed. "A hindrance? Genkai, one mistake and you will be involved just because of me."

Genkai glared, chocolate gaze meeting the grinning moon. "Koenma is also a friend, he will listen to me. And you did mention that your friend will hold your ring with the utmost care as you will care for hers. She is safe, thus so will your ring."

At the mention of the ring, slender fingers unknowingly reached for the meager cord coiled around her neck beneath her collar, the cold, copper band resting against the flush of her skin. The weight was almost invisible, but to Lan, it dragged a part of her soul like an anvil.

"Your words cannot change the weight of my crimes," Lan shook her head, a weak, wry grin on her face. "Nothing can. And as for her, I have not seen her since we were separated. I trust her enough to care for herself and my ring, but anything could go wrong."

Genkai despised witnessing the fleeting second of something dark cross Lan's features. A warning glare hiding old instincts within.

"I've told you how we discovered how flawed the rings are. If something happens, and another realizes that flaw. . ." Lan halted her words. But the message was clear. Genkai knew this. One of the fears that had strained her friend since.

For once, Genkai could only respond in silence. When she was younger, she used to rebut Lan's pessimistic thoughts with impatient optimism. But that was then and this is now. Admittedly enough, she was a tad bit naive before too.

Now, Genkai understood her sullen thoughts as the truth. But it was still not a reason to deprive the demoness of having other comrades aside from Genkai herself. Yes, Yusuke _is_ the Spirit Detective, but he's a good person within the rough exterior. Intuition called that they will need one another. And for some reason—now that she is training a disciple to continue her legacy—Genkai couldn't control the creeping of fifty years ago.

Intuition calls for repetition. And Lan will have to be involved.

"The boy can be a brat," Genkai suddenly started after a minute of silence. "But his heart is good. He'll help you." His words before leaving echoed within the pinkette's mind once more, urging a quick quirk of her lips.

"He'll be good for you."

"He's the Reikai Tantei. How can someone who would someday want to arrest me, _help_ me?"

Genkai turned her head to look at her friend, only to meet those deep blues boring into her own. For a moment, her mind flew back to the last time she had peered into the depths that is Lan. The last time sealed with a promise.

A promise that has been kept, but was met with unsuspecting circumstances that neither truly needed.

"He never wanted to be," Genkai finally whispered. "His only reason was to go back to life and end the misery of those around him. He didn't expect that—grieving on his loss."

Brows furrowed, Lan locked her jaw, a flicker of unbidden surprise in her eyes.

In her silence, Genkai continued. "His soul wasn't expected in Reikai when he died—and yes, he did. For saving a child no less." She answered the question in Lan's eyes with a dry chuckle. "Anyway, his soul hasn't yet a place in Reikai then, so he was given a choice to return to life. Koenma only gave him the chance to be revived with a test, and at the price of becoming the Spirit Detective. Of course, in a typical Koenma fashion, he had failed to mention the price until Yusuke's alive again." A rather sour look befell on the psychic's features, mildly displeased at the thought even though she knew she had nothing to do with it.

Sometimes, the good can be quite unfair.

"And he told you all of this?" Lan retorted sharply coupled with a shallow narrowing of her eyes.

"No. Not all of it. The gist of it, yes, but the rest was passed to me by Koenma himself." Genkai had the decency to shrug, as if the very visit of Reikai's Prince is a casual occasion and nothing rare. "He wanted to make sure that the brat's well taken care of after he passed my tournament."

It went unsaid that the visit was never mentioned before the presence of the detective himself too.

"Yusuke," Genkai sighed. "He's not the kind of person who would want the world to be perfect. Just the kind who would do things because he thinks it _fits._ "

And that was the truth. She had seen more and more of Urameshi Yusuke after each day of training and, while she could frown and scoff all she pleases at his blatant lack of disrespect and crude manner (not forgetting his beautiful usage of adjectives towards her), Genkai would inwardly accept that she liked what she's seeing.

Little by little, the storm within Lan eased as Genkai spoke her piece about the young detective, dwindling into nothing but a kindling caution. It was instinctual, thus could not be helped. She moved her gaze to seek the moon's after Genkai finished, eyes seeking for permission—answers—from the flawed orb.

If only it was that simple.

Lips pursed, Lan weighed her options. On one hand, she trusts Genkai with her life. Years before, when she was but an insignificant dunce, she walked her life clinging onto the guidance of Genkai's words, and not once did the latter failed her. Thus by logic, Genkai would not fail her now.

Yet, on the other hand, a variety of things could go wrong. One slip was all it takes for her. . .

Lan brought her gaze back to her friend's expectant ones. Patient brown calming troubled blues.

Licking her lips, she made her decision, albeit lacking confidence in it.

"He must be something special for you to speak highly of," —a snort rumbled in Genkai's chest— "But I cannot drop my guard. I will try though, see if he is who you really speak of. As your disciple, I cannot ignore him for long. However, I can't also guarantee that I will fully trust him with what I trust in you. If he is not what you speak of, then it will end badly for you and I. If he is, then another innocent will only get involved. I do not want that."

Genkai nodded, accepting her answer grimly. The conversation was weighing them down and neither planned their reunion to be like this.

"Why did you not look for her?" Genkai flipped open another subject, frowning when Lan shook her head. "I thought you'd want to find her first before coming back."

"I thought so too," Lan sighed, grateful for the change of topic even though her answer was far from encouraging. "But during the past fifty years, I was wandering—exploring and learning wherever I went." A gleam of awed clarity appeared in Lan's eyes, one that expressed relief along with genuine pride and happiness in Genkai.

It was as she had hoped—Lan had gained insight.

 _That_ was the change in her eyes.

Oblivious to Genkai's thoughts, Lan continued. "I traveled farther and farther, reaching new countries and the variety of everything. When I realized that, I reasoned she must be faring the same, so I opted not to look for her after all. Let her enjoy her own freedom too. Not to mention, I wanted to see this disciple of yours. Words about you float everywhere. It is how I kept track of you." Lan paused again, letting one small, nostalgic smile pull through along with amusement to shine in her eyes. "He resembles you. Figures you will have a successor matching yourself."

"Please." Genkai scoffed, which prompted a short laugh shared between them. A laugh that healed the distance wedged by time between them. Once more, a memory flashed before their eyes, one of their younger years. Laughing, teasing, and generally content.

It was a pity they couldn't stay like that.

* * *

 **:)**

 **I'll be honest, chapters from 1 to 10 were actually written almost a year ago from now. My style has been gradually changing since, so I hope it's not boring you. Anyways, it will be a while until Kurama shows up in the story. I need to establish Lan's relationship with Yusuke first and lay out the depth of her friendship with Genkai. In a way, they are sisters in bond.**

 **Thank you all so much for your support! This story is still quite new and yet, your reviews are very rewarding. Thank you so much, _Sidako_ _, Bubble Smoosher _and _redheadforlife_ for your words. I treasure them greatly. Also for those guest reviews as well. There were a few that I removed since I couldn't understand them properly. **

**Anyways, thank you so much and tune in for the next update :)**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"Uso"_ by Sid**


	5. Chapter 3

**a/n: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho. All rights belong to Yoshihiro Togashi.**

 **I apologize for the long update (ish). I promised myself to not publish a new chapter unless I finish a draft, just to keep myself ahead and still capable of editing back if I so choose.**

 **I also changed the title. . . The first one just didn't seem right to me and admittedly, I put that on a whim just to have a title. I'm so sorry XD**

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **t|** **h|** **r|** **e|** **e**

* * *

 **"IT'S** a good thing it still fits."

"I've only been gone for fifty years, Genkai."

"So? That's majority of a human's lifespan."

Against her better control, Lan couldn't detain the smile from pulling her lips, one equally mingled with mirth and guilt as she shook her head.

Instead of wasting a reply, she let her fingers skim over the soft material of the clothe hugging her frame, lingering over the gentle cinch around her waist with a thoughtful hum. At her side, Genkai followed her movements with her gaze, the latter's very own method of checking whether the garment needed to be adjusted or—if need be as the years suggest—be thrown away. Thankfully enough, not a flaw was detected underneath the pinkette's precise inspection. If anything, the garment merely appeared to be worn compared to Lan's sustained appearance.

By the end of her roaming gaze, Genkai caught sight of the playful, accusing smile Lan was so teasingly sporting over her shoulder.

"You specifically tended to this one." The statement was direct, almost confident, if Genkai didn't know her well enough.

"You favored this one over the others."

The smile grew into a grin and Lan had to duck her chin to resist acting foolish before her friend, silently scolding herself for suddenly reverting to her callow self. Even for just a quick second.

Personally, as the flinch of her lips entails, Genkai would have none of that timid action. Fifty years ago, it had taken her months to shovel through Lan's obscured emotions and insecurity, barreling down wall after wall just to uproot the real gem behind the profound confusion. As a result, the latter became utterly and—at times—painfully honest towards the psychic.

But for once, after half a century of separation, Genkai would let this one slide until the demoness situated herself here better once more.

Three days had gone by smoothly and within those days, Genkai had assisted Lan into settling back into her old room, situated just a few ways down her own. She had been smug, inwardly chuckling to herself the second Lan had slid open the shoji doors. A disregarded room would have been a quiet abode for filth and dust, which was what the latter had been expecting judging by the way her nose wrinkled in preparation. Only, when the room was revealed before her, it wasn't coated in filth and mildew.

To Lan's astonishment, it was kept in quality condition throughout the years. Aside from being a little too weathered along with the small changes (such as the subtle shift of the knickknacks decorating the room so it wouldn't be too bare), Genkai had made sure to clean the room at least once in a week or two during the past five decades. It gave her something to do other than her profession, and she treasured the memories that resided in that room. It was all she had for years.

It was enough to make Lan question her luck for having such a friend like Genkai all over again.

Now, Genkai brought out all of her old clothes. Reasonably lacking, of course. The pinkette had been explaining about throwing the others away with a ready apology when Lan stopped her—reaching out to grasp one of the two qipaos she had preferred the most. As stated, the garment in question received thorough care. Genkai had specifically tended _that_ qipao with utmost care. Yes, she had tended to all of Lan's soft material clothing, but the deep blue garment had been one of the latter's favored one out of all.

"I take it you have only recently taken this one out of the wash," Lan fingered one of the three frog buttons fastening the dress intact. "It's still a little cool."

"Yes, yes." Genkai waved a careless hand, turning to stride out of the nearly bare room. Nothing but a dresser and a measly futon decorated the room, after all, Lan rarely spends her time within the four walls. She was always up and wandering—whether it be patrolling around the thick forest or gallivanting around the crowded city hours from here. Genkai had long ago ceased to question her whereabouts there since the standard amount of time travel did not abide with the demoness' own method of roaming, and staying in one place often gave Lan the queasy feeling of being trapped. Thus, Genkai let her be.

She always comes back—and that's the beauty in it.

"Has your disciple finished his exercise?" Following the shorter female out of the room, Lan consciously tugged on the end of her black spandex shorts beneath her thigh-length qipao with a furrow of her brows. The fabric was flexible and comfortable enough to leave her room to move to her liking, but it's been a while since Lan had worn shorts. The bare feeling against cool air almost felt foreign after being accustomed to wearing pants for years.

"He still has half an hour to go," Genkai scoffed, leisurely taking her time to reach the training hall. "Last I heard from him, he said that he's dying. Reckon he might want to go before me too." A snort covered the laughter that threatened to erupt and Genkai shook her head, wondering how she had gotten a sluggard as a successor.

Aside from a tick on her jaw, Lan chose not to answer. Counting down the days of her friend isn't something she would like to do nor remind herself, even as a harmless joke. Seeing Genkai worn and aged frightened Lan enough that she had a difficult time trying not to hover around the pinkette for the past three days.

To rid of the thought, Lan decided to focus on the topic and ease Yusuke's torture—as he had put it. The boy mentioned that he had started training under the iron fist of Genkai for nearly a week before her arrival. His recess came in short minutes after one exercise after another and Lan knew just how grueling the pinkette could be if she so chooses it. Genkai was— _is_ nothing but strict and thorough when it comes to sharpening the spirit energy, and if she wishes for Yusuke to inherit hers, then it came as no surprise that the latter would subject the young detective into the same strenuous training she had undergone just to polish her impeccable skills.

"He's been working very hard," Lan commented, easing forward to walk beside the shorter female and not behind. "His efforts appear to very fruitful already, with the rate you're subjecting him to."

"Explain." Genkai hummed. Lan never failed to be precise. A quintessential habit with her preternatural senses. Genkai knew that and intended to make use of it.

If there was anyone who could detect even the slightest of improvement or difference, Lan would be that individual.

Nodding, Lan proceeded to describe what she had gathered from her observation during the past three days. She was always lingering around the corner whenever Genkai would train with Yusuke, an old habit she picked up from her first stay in the temple. Afterwards, her keen eyes would absorb every trickle of sweat, narrow over the smallest strain of muscles along with the gradual surge of their spirit energy. Admiring and analyzing the control and balance, that was what she did—dissecting the elegance of the flow with her sight and judging the smooth transaction to generate a powerful attack. In Yusuke, there was no elegance nor smoothness. It was all rough and callous—bright, determined and fierce that it burned beneath his skin in attention, waiting to be used in full potential.

That had immediately garnered Lan's interest.

If this was a detective who felt no obligations to right every wrong, then what spurs him on?

Lan nodded to herself. "In a span of three days, I've seen his stance improve. He used to be quite sloppy in his movements during the first day I've been here. So I might say, it was quite a surprise to see him learn and adjust in the duration of his training the following day, and he does not even realize it. His energy seems to flow smoother now that he subconsciously knows how to distribute his weight—lighter on his feet, as well. He's an excellent learner for a human."

She hummed the offhanded compliment of her own, to which Genkai harrumphed at, urging a grin from the demoness.

"He's already showing remarkable results from what I could see. And it has only been a week since he started training under you, according to him, and I've only started observing for three days. That itself is an unusual feat to accomplish."

Considering this, Genkai kept the swelling of pride to herself upon hearing the positive progress of her pupil, though she let the weight rest warmly in her chest. _'He might not be as hopeless as I've thought.'_

"Anything else?"

"When you were training to concentrate his spirit energy," Lan continued, referring back to the dawn after her arrival—just hours after her conversation with Genkai on the roof of the temple—when the pinkette had woken up Yusuke to train him once more on concentrating his spirit energy on a spike and using nothing but the tip of his calloused forefinger while upside-down. "His energy was all over the place, making his weight imbalanced, therefore resulting in his stance to be too wobbly to remain in position for supposedly twelve hours." Frowning at the memory, Lan could still picture how his energy dangerously flared and flickered, at times dwindling to such a ridiculously small ball of blue that it was a miracle he held himself up still.

Genkai nodded, recalling that moment in her own memory as well, though she was—as she always is during their training—besides the brat doing the exact same exercise with him. Smoother, easier, and undoubtedly more adept than he was; meant to show the delinquent how it is done, even if he habitually called her a showoff.

"However," Lan added, tone shifting onto a positive lilt. "Yesterday, his control improved. His energy wasn't as unstable as it was during his first hours and he managed to lessen the cracking of his energy all throughout the remaining time. Though his weight was still a little bit imbalanced, he was finally able to find a middle ground. Yusuke's only concern was maintaining it. The boy can hold a good position for an hour or two on average before losing it again, but he's able to right himself after around thirty minutes or so. An improvement like that shows that he is getting better in controlling his energy."

Unbeknownst to her, a gleam of admiration hovered in her eyes, settling a small smile on her person. Lan was truly impressed, despite her caution. Here was a young human, barely at the apex of his lifespan and yet he's able to handle and better himself through Genkai's rigorous training in a short amount of time. Adjusting and adapting, Lan was not blind to see such potential as his.

Yusuke was quick. She would dare even call him a genius—if he was aware of his own actions.

"Since then," Lan continued. "The flow of his spirit energy all throughout his body is gradually getting smoother. However, I recommend teaching him how to properly conserve his strength. He has a tendency to waste them precariously, especially during bouts of anger."

Beside her, Genkai arched her brows partly in appreciation and partly in amazement, her chest only becoming heavier with pride despite the added criticism at the end. She had seen something extraordinary in Urameshi Yusuke during her tournament and the boy has kept on surprising her since the very beginning. Crude, rash and perhaps accompanied by luck as he was, it was simply puzzling to see _something_ with a background like that.

Yusuke simply doesn't back down from a challenge and as his teacher, Genkai is proud to train someone as rough as he into a person who could be the best version of himself.

Genkai closed her eyes, savoring the pride of a mentor after curbing that feeling for so long . . . She had almost forgotten what it meant to be one since Kairen.

The two walked towards the training hall with Lan still feeding Genkai's ears about her pupil's steady yet remarkable progress and Genkai remained silent with pride. Proud of the words of improvement of Yusuke's: how his breathing had unknowingly altered to help steady the course of his reiki—incidentally boosting his power with his only problem on how to duly unleash and conserve it. Then there was the beginning of fluidity in his motions that has begun to show itself little by little. . .

Yusuke was simply progressing at a wonderful pace. Unnoticed—but with Lan, it was easy to see.

The sound of Yusuke's pained grunts could be heard as they reached the training hall, paired with the usual throw of swears only a sailor could rival.

Mildly entertained, Lan stepped forward to slide open the shoji door, letting Genkai enter first before herself.

"It's about damn time!" Yusuke scowled through gritted teeth at the cracking energy beneath his finger, doing yet another exercise on concentrating his spirit energy once more. "I've been here since dawn, you crazy old hag! What kind of person wakes another person at three am!?"

Yusuke chose that moment to lift his head an inch with apparent difficulty, brown eyes arranged in a glare that could send most people cowering behind their trembling limbs. His sleep was stolen, damn it!

Heaven knows just how much he had been deprived of that luxury.

Whatever words of insults he had itching his throat died when his eyes caught sight of the pale flesh of Lan's bare thighs.

Now, as a young adolescent child in his boyhood, Yusuke couldn't, despite his—little—efforts, stop the blood from rushing to his head as he openly gawked, the manic rage completely replaced by a fury red blush.

Genkai didn't resist the kick to his spine to save him from falling on the spike. Face first.

* * *

"In my defense, it's a first for me."

Arching one disbelieving brow, Lan peeked beneath thick lashes at the sulking detective, hands pausing for a moment from its task.

"Of course."

The simple response flared another rush of blood to Yusuke's face.

"You don't believe me!" Embarrassed, Yusuke narrowed his eyes with a wobble of his lips, trying to meet her blank blues as quick hands continued to wrap the bandage around and over his sore shoulder.

When Lan paused once to rest her passive gaze on his glare, he faltered.

"The only girl I know is Keiko, okay? And no one's going anywhere with her. Not with that attitude. . . And I've never really seen a girl wear something so short before so you just caught me off guard, is all." Grumbling incoherently, Yusuke dropped his gaze as shame flushed his cheeks anew, finally falling silent when Lan remained uncommunicative. A second later, she resumed her task.

Genkai's kick was painful, to say the least. Though thanks to nearly a week-long training under her (has it really only been a week? He swore it felt longer), Yusuke knew her strength wasn't really in it. The purpose was to push him out of the way as the energy protecting him from the spike thinned into nothing in one mere second, leaving him unprotected in his loss of concentration. If the old hag hadn't intervened, he would've been missing an eye. Though the instinctual move went a little forceful since Yusuke went rolling haphazardly onto the wooden floor, knocking his strained shoulder rather painfully before the wall stopped his ungraceful tumble.

Then forty-five minutes later, Lan had already finished rubbing soothing cream all over his throbbing shoulder, right after deliberately checking if it wasn't dislocated or if it had received any problematic damage whilst the pinkette went to prepare their dinner.

 _'The ghoul didn't even scold me or anything. Just laughed shit at my face_ _,'_ Yusuke thought with a frown, his mind replaying the sound of Genkai's booming laughter when he fell in a mess of limbs on the floor after his glorious tumble.

 _'_ _Heck, even China Girl couldn't resist a grin.'_

Pursing his lips to hinder the irritated scoff from escaping past his lips, the detective chose to direct his attention at the woman tending his shoulder, softly releasing a relieved sigh as the throbbing faded under her care.

Fortunately, she wasn't angered at his embarrassing show of gawking earlier, though she was far from amused. Yusuke was being truthful when he said he meant no disrespect, but it was _also_ true when he mentioned being caught off guard to see that much skin exposed from a woman (his sneak attacks on his childhood friend does not count). He was fourteen! That was reasonable enough.

Hopefully.

Admittedly, he fully expected a reaction similar to Keiko's from Lan—all shouts and yells with raining punches, but he was relieved that he only received a slight glare.

If anything, Lan's reaction simply supported more of Yusuke's initial impression of her.

Nonchalantly emotional.

For the past three days, Yusuke had warmed up towards the strange demoness, finding some odd comfort from her seemingly indifferent care tinged with a twisted humor of sorts. The hag had told him about Lan during their bouts of training whenever the latter was not there lingering in some corner. However, the information given was always limited. Still, Genkai had spoken highly of Lan in her own way, so Yusuke gathered that the latter was, at the very least, a decent person.

His interactions with her came rarely though, and often occur in the early mornings. He would be up cooking breakfast—as the hag would drag him down and insist it to be part of his training—and sooner or later, Lan would stalk silently into the room to make her tea. She never initiated to talk, and Yusuke figured that she's shying away from him for a reason he's not aware. With Genkai, Lan held herself in a lax manner, comfortable and serene with a ghost of a smirk that matched the senile old lady's. It was an uncanny sight to witness, truly.

But with him?

Her whole demeanor shifts.

Yusuke knew he was far from being the sharpest needle in the haystack, but he was not blind as to how she strived to interact with him as little as possible.

He would have none of that.

Say it was curiosity or his usual stubborn recklessness, but Yusuke leaned towards her with an open warmth. People often cower at the sight of him and never gave him a chance. Now Lan, for some reason, felt threatened, but at least she was trying to be civil and accepting. She listened to him talk during the mornings and that was a good change in his life. Unlike the hag, his mother, the diaper-ruling kid, and Keiko, Yusuke rarely had a second to butt in his voice. But he was free to dump his rants to Lan.

That was somewhat okay in his books.

And to be completely honest, Yusuke did find her alluringly attractive. Anyone could be snared with her strange beauty; her hair long and thick in soft lilac with her skin pale yet healthy underneath the sun. Lan was also taller than most girls he's met before, perhaps just an inch or two shorter than him—maybe matching Botan's height. Not to mention, her face was cutely small; oddly naive, with a small button nose and full lips.

But it was probably her eyes that were captivating the most. Wide and expressive—openly glassy that it gave a sheen of fragility, yet sharpens with the scariest hint of a warning. A dangerous ocean.

Lan was beautiful. The scary kind of beauty, he gathered.

"Staring is never nice."

"I wasn't staring." Without meaning to, Yusuke denied her statement. Though his fingers twitched with the wanton desire to maul himself.

She smirked, frankly shocking Yusuke because that was the first (almost) smile he had gotten from her.

"Of course you weren't. Silly me." Finishing the task, Lan patted his now bandaged shoulder with a satisfied nod, leaning back on her cushion to let him stretch.

"There's nothing much to look at, really." Wrinkling his nose, Yusuke feigned irritation, biting back the smile at the sudden warmth she held towards him.

Lan had to laugh, eyes crinkling just as his mask fell to leave a smug grin in place.

His worry was unnecessary, at the most. Lan honestly didn't mind (perhaps a little). It was innocent—harmless, purely a reaction at seeing something uncommon. Males of his race often undergo through this phase, she'd learned. Demons were no different.

Besides, she'd heard him talk listlessly during the mornings—snippets about his day-to-day life before he became the appointed Spirit Detective.

During those times, Lan let him attempt to build a form of kinship towards her. He surprised her for being so open, so she stayed and listened despite her better judgment. She recalled him mentioning bouts of tender complaints about his own mother, spout irritated amusement about another boy named Kuwabara—Genkai seem to know this boy too when she asked the pinkette—and utter affectionate rants about a girl named Keiko.

Out of the three, the name of that girl seemed to stir emotion within the brash detective the most, if the subtle shift in his voice did not say otherwise.

"I'm sure no one will compare to her." Lan paused, a solemn smile easing her laughter.

The fresh grin from Yusuke's face followed by the telltale burst of warmth that settled in his stomach. He was so sure that Lan could practically hear the sudden thudding of his erratic heart. Yet, along with it, a dark cloud muddled his thoughts and hope, and he responded with the way he usually does.

"Yeah, sure. Think all you like, there's nothing there." He scoffed, rubbing a finger under his nose just to avoid the demoness' gaze.

There was, in truth. Yusuke's relationship with Keiko had always been open. Not until lately, that is. But what he meant was neither of them had ever bothered to hide anything from each other. Sure, there were words that went unsaid but, their actions and behavior towards the other spoke highly enough. Yusuke was more than certain that his childhood friend would reciprocate. . . _whatever_ this is, since they've been threading past the line of friendship nowadays. Yet, in the end, they would always cower back on safer grounds.

He's fourteen.

 _They're_ fourteen.

All the possibilities are open to them.

They haven't carved out their futures yet.

It was just. . . given that they'll have each other in the end.

But even then, _Keiko_ can still alter it. That possibility was enough to sprout a tiny seed of doubt in the pit of Yusuke's mind.

"But you speak so fondly of her," Lan tilted her head. "Not a lot, but enough for me to understand."

Unaware of his inner musings, Lan didn't fully understand, causing her brows to knit in thought. Her memories replayed all the loving moments she had witnessed between Genkai and Toguro, along with random glimpses she saw of intimate human couples in the five decades of her meandering. In each flicker of her memory, Lan could identify the same wistful look they shared that Yusuke now harbors.

So what's the difference that the boy tries to deny it?

Yusuke snorted. "I never said anything special about Keiko."

There it was. The slight difference at the mere mention of that name. A demon is gifted with keener senses than all humans, but Lan had far surpassed the standard senses of most demons. Even more, she was trained to notice the unnoticeable. To her, the slight crack of his voice at the mention of the name along with the quick, almost non-existing twitch of his eyes was startlingly and utterly clear before her sight.

A weakness.

And a strength.

"Words are nothing but the surface of what feelings truly define." She was speaking with the knowledge of watching Genkai and Toguro work and move together day after day and night after night. When they spar, it was tense—a challenge of all challenges, where both lose themselves in their passion. When they talk, it was with the utmost respect and admiration they held for each other. And when they fight, it was because of their care and pride, but neither was willing to lose the other.

At first, Lan failed to understand those meanings—failed to understand compassion. It was only after watching and learning the world for fifty years did she began to see, began to realize. Now, she can put those into words, define every emotion she felt—deep or shallow.

Because she can understand them now too.

"Perhaps, you should confront it rather than set it aside." Lan continued with a frown, still not fully understanding as to why the detective does not acknowledge it if this human girl is important to him. "Chaos in the mind can disturb the heart, which can corrupt a person's spirit." _'Like Toguro,'_ her eyes grew cold. "Situation differs, but anyone can remain true to their path should they recognize what's important to them."

Yusuke had no reply to that, neither could he deny it. So he left it just as that, mauling the words of a demon he barely knows for the feelings he barely even realizes.

* * *

"Again!"

Staggering onto weak feet, Yusuke wiped the trickle of blood oozing out of his split lip, ignorant towards the pulsing pain as he glared into peevish brown eyes boring into his own. Gritting his teeth, the detective brought both his palms up and faced the aged pinkette once more, pressing the heels of his palms together as he readied himself on setting up another defense.

"Bring it, grandma."

They were practicing out in the yard this time, soaking beneath the generous heat of the glowing sun and the occasional whispers of the lazy wind. Then perched on her heels on the edge of the roof, Lan watched, her hair twisted into a thick braid done by Genkai to lessen the intensity of the heat—a quick offer to pull the demoness into observing another round of their training once more.

Genkai didn't have to do that in Lan's opinion. She had easily settled into being reduced as the duo's neutral referee and observer during their training for almost two weeks now. It wasn't forced. In fact, Lan finds it hard to tear her eyes away whenever the two would collide during their daily training, glad to be a witness once more to Genkai's prowess as well as amazed to see Yusuke grow more in control of his energy each day. The latter would sometimes call out to her amidst his training to ask for the hour; or if he was just exercising, he'd strike up conversations with her just to pass time.

Admittedly to herself, the fact that Genkai's disciple had yet to disappoint neither her nor Genkai was intriguing. Yusuke was simply improving in an admirable pace as someone of Genkai's successor and the Reikai Tantei should be.

"Don't get cocky now." Genkai drawled. "Stand straight, you look like you're about to soil yourself."

"Funny how my shit sort of reminds me of you. Want to know why?"

But on the other hand, Lan knew she should be concerned. The stubborn resolve she once had to remain distant and a stranger towards the detective was slowly crumbling into a fondness she couldn't deny.

As the days passed, the conversations between them grew more often—stretching into comfortable humor and teasing on the other's expense. Yusuke was far from the expected reputation a Reikai Tantei should hold and every single childish antic he threw made Lan smile. He knew humor, and who was she to deny good humor.

Such as now.

"I'll have to do you a favor and cut out your tongue, you dumbass." Genkai scoffed.

"Just ask her," jabbing a shaky thumb over his shoulder, Yusuke gestured at Lan. "She'll side with me."

As an added trait, Yusuke was also very stubborn. Adamant to be a friend to her. And as the weeks passed, Lan let him wiggle his way into her daily life.

Lan bit back an exasperated huff. "Don't dawdle, Yusuke."

He frowned. "Killjoy."

When Lan first began dealing with her confusion at the anomaly that is Urameshi Yusuke days ago, Genkai would slowly walk herself out of the room to leave them alone. A prompt that Yusuke took as a time to slowly ease Lan out of her hesitant shell. Then with just about a few words, they'll be off talking about who knows what until they would either be debating fighting manners and techniques, or Yusuke would relate to her little snippets of his life as an example whenever she was confused about a human custom they happened to mention during their conversations.

"You're used to it."

Either way, each interaction with him had Lan's personal mission to remain distant crumble. Soon, hope wedged its way in her heart—a repeat to what she felt when Genkai and Toguro had become her allies. Surely, remaining distant would cause more suspicion, wouldn't it? In any case, Yusuke doesn't seem to be the kind to abandon reason when arresting a criminal.

He was just a boy, he knew nothing.

But perhaps, the biggest influence in blooming their budding friendship was the strict order of Genkai in applying Lan's assistance in Yusuke's training a week ago.

 **x**

 _"It is too dangerous, Genkai." Lan argued vehemently that evening, the subject in question already snoring his night away after another hectic day._

 _"He needs it. You can help him more!" Genkai fired back. "I didn't say you have to do something drastic nor fight him aggressively! You're far too advanced even without your youki. All I ask is for you two to spar. Push him! Make a better fighter out of him!"_

 _At that point, Lan whirled around with a growl churning deep in her chest. "Then you do it! As his mentor, you should do it yourself." A shaky sigh fell from her lips, swallowing the anger because she could not bear to release it on someone dear to her. Not even an ounce._

 _"All it takes is one mistake, Genkai. One."_

 _"This is as much it is for you as it is for him."_

 **x**

Lan remembered herself glaring. A panting mess who's torn between wanting to be a friend and tearing herself away. She was labeled—a ticking danger waiting to happen. But when Genkai seemed to have sobered, her eyes seeing the tortured soul within her friend despite the clear anger the latter showed in her glare, she mulled it over.

It took Lan three days later to finally agree. Begrudgingly, reluctantly, with fear coiling her limbs stiff. The mantra that it was to help him and no more rang loudly in her head.

He's a Spirit Detective and she's a wanted criminal.

At the moment, Lan rid of her past musings by narrowing her eyes. Bringing herself back into the present just in time to observe Genkai prepare herself to deliver yet another powerful shot of her reikohadou aimed towards Yusuke's awaiting palms. The task was simple enough to follow. The latter merely has to lessen the impact of the blow with his own palms cushioned by his own spirit energy. A simple yet effective defensive move, at most.

But Genkai never said it was easy.

"Steady yourself, Yusuke." Shifting her feet, Genkai pushed out yet another blast of her outrageous energy from the palms of her hands.

Yusuke locked his knees. "Oh, _shi_ —"

The impact huffed a powerful gust of wind and it held, blowing Genkai and Lan's hair wildly in ribbons of cherry and lilac. In her haste, Lan's hand shot out of instinct to shield the mark on her forehead. Yet even through the prickle of panic, she still pushed to watch, enrapt at the current massive collision compared to the previous ones. She frowned as she Yusuke's hands shook at the violent contact—the skin of his outstretched palms turning scarlet with the burn despite the sheen of his own energy supposedly meant to protect.

He was gradually improving, but the strength and control still weren't enough against Genkai's.

When his knees buckled, Lan pursed her lips in concern without even knowing, intent on drinking in every bit of detail she could see from above. The energy acting as his shield wavered when Genkai's reikohadou attempted to swallow it whole.

Teeth grinding tight against each other to muffle the scream of exertion tearing his throat, Yusuke pushed on.

Lan lowered her head. She knew it wouldn't last.

True enough, the scream Yusuke was swallowing back finally tore free—ripping out of his throat as Genkai's energy burned his open palms and the colliding parties of reiki finally explode, raging a fiercer gust of wind throughout the yard that made the nearest trees bow.

Lan couldn't stop the way her mouth parted in awe.

Yusuke sagged, defeated—tension draining out of strained muscles as he released his hold of his energy protecting himself. He didn't stop himself as he fell on his knees, panting and sweating, just barely holding onto the thread of consciousness.

Head bowed with a tousled mess of raven locks, the detective licked his quivering, bottom lip, wincing at the salty tang of his sweat.

"D-Damn it, grandma. . . You were that offended?"

 _'Typical_ , _'_ distracted, Lan eyed the burnt barks of the bent trees, a tiny smile gradually cracking her indifferent façade.

 _'He did it.'_

Softly, as if carried by the wind, a rare compliment was said. "Very good."

Yusuke's head shot up, swallowing the twinge of pain that came with the movement as he stared unabashedly at Genkai, shocked and smugly pleased at the way her gaze took at his tired self with approval. A gaze that often meant he had notched himself another achievement. He'd only seen it once when he won the tournament.

Without fail, Genkai continued. "You managed to withstand against an attack like that, long enough to let it dwindle into nothing. Though you're hardly unscathed." She paused, eyeing the trembling of his hands. The skin was somewhat scorched from the heat of the energy. _Her_ energy.

Firmly, Genkai turned after her analysis, moving to take a step to walk back to her temple. But then, as an afterthought, she added, "Rest for a day. Reciprocate for all the energy you spent for the past few days."

Lan couldn't resist the low chuckle when Yusuke pumped his fist in the air with a silent scream of joy, repeatedly bowing his head and thanking the gods in an exaggerated reaction to Genkai's generosity.

"After that," Genkai spoke again, ending Yusuke's charades with a simple, narrowed glance over her shoulder. "You will train and spar again with Lan. You'll do so for four days since your previous one greatly improved your stamina and reserved energy." Turning around once more to hide her sardonic grin, Genkai silently made her way back inside with one last punch in the gut.

"Let's see if you can hold it without collapsing this time."

When Genkai was gone, Lan gently dropped from her spot above, tentatively approaching the strangely silent detective from behind. Genkai's orders rang loud and clear in her head, planting an inkling of fear at the thought of sparring the detective again. But this time, she was unprepared for the burst of excitement fighting the trepidation.

The first time they sparred was, at the very least, interesting. Intriguing. Wherein Lan found herself enjoying every second of it, to her shock. A pleasant shock. She'd never crossed paths with a fighter such as him before. Yusuke had clearly underestimated her, as she had clearly underestimated his will to fight.

At the very least, it was entertaining.

Staring at the back of Yusuke's head, Lan let the excitement feed her bloodstream.

"The day after tomorrow. Be ready at dawn," she grinned when those chocolate eyes glared at her over his shoulder, a pout on his lips to show his exhaustion. "I'll be looking forward until then."

"Yay me."

* * *

Beneath the gaze of the moon, curious brown eyes flittered to and fro between the two figures conversing by the veranda, their voices nothing but a caressed whisper in the wind. Yusuke was tempted to step closer but contented himself to remain in the shadows, even though he's very much aware that the two knew of his presence. He couldn't hear them anyways, but he wondered just enough to stay.

This has been happening ever since Lan had arrived, and Yusuke often wanted to ask what's going on with this strange custom. Another week has passed by after another spar with her (and some more), and he was almost confident to say that he's making a progress in easing her out of her shell. But whether or not it was enough to ask about their strange tradition every night, he doubted.

So he watched again.

Just as soon as his thoughts piled up as one, the taller of the two vanished out of sight—a purplish blur before she was gone. Again, he wondered where she went. This happens every night, or almost every night. But more than that, he wanted to ask why she has to go and leave her supposedly—only—friend behind.

After she was gone, the lone figure turned to his direction. Her own chocolate gaze beckoning. He wasn't nervous, there was no sign of the rigid command present now. So he abided. This time, without complaints.

Yusuke paused when he reached Genkai's side, looking down on how the psychic sat completely lax by the edge of the veranda after a day's worth of training. For a moment, neither resorted to words, opting to dwell in silence as they contemplated the arrival of tomorrow would bring.

Funny how anticlimactic it felt. At least, for the detective it was. His summer plans were always written ahead of him—mundane games at the arcade just to kill some time; get on petty fights with the punks around his neighbors with a guaranteed win every time; look after his frivolous mother; annoy Keiko just because he had nothing else to do after that.

Yusuke thought of it, once, that perhaps his death and rebirth—of a sort—granted this subconscious wish of his. The thirst for adrenaline. A thrill. A danger to thrum his bored blood that craved for adrenaline.

But what for?

"What are you thinking, dimwit?" Genkai's sudden query cut through his thoughts. "I should applaud you for your effort to think for once, but I admit it doesn't suit you."

Irritation settled at her sarcasm, yet the detective didn't bother. It didn't feel like now was the right time to initiate a banter. A pointless banter, but it was how their banters go. For weeks, he had gotten used to the old woman's silver tongue that he had accepted it as normal as breathing would go.

But by tomorrow, he'll leave. Finally. After a whole month of stay, he'll finally go home. Not in permanent, even when he was still gulping down the relief of freedom to end to his torture (temporary, but Yusuke really did not want to think about that now). But, admittedly, having Genkai's nagging voice absent starting tomorrow would be. . .

Odd.

"Just thinking about my freedom tomorrow. I'm finally gonna be relieved of your presence. Awesome." His cheer came in monotone, matching the blank expression on his face perfectly.

"My sentiments exactly," Genkai replied, a smirk crossing her features. A fond one.

A rare, fond one.

The next second, Yusuke took the spot beside the pinkette, plopping ungracefully on his bottom with his legs dangling over the edge and toes tickling the trimmed grass. He sighed—a sigh that carried away all the tension and stress knotted within during all those weeks of training. Soon, a grin stretched and ached his cheeks anew, a giddy feeling settling at the thought of no schedule planned the next day—

"You still have one spar left at dawn."

—Or so he thought.

 _'_ _And here I thought we actually achieved peace for once.'_

"Why?" Yusuke grumbled.

"Consider it as a parting gift. And for you to anticipate something special the next time we continue your training."

"Like that'll happen."

"You'll never know. You might actually want to train."

"As if."

At the boy's scoff, Genkai chuckled, thin arms crossing gently over her chest. She didn't answer. Not for the lack of response, but simply because—like how he felt.

The quiet was calming in a strange way and she opted to prolong it. There never was a muted second ever since Yusuke came barging into her old life, a loud fool as her disciple. A quiet time with Yusuke was unheard of. Ludicrous even. Each moment spent with his presence was a whirlwind of noise.

Finally having a minute of silence was strangely satisfying. Especially from the boy.

But it didn't mean that he could hold it for long.

"Where does she go?"

Blinking owlishly at the spontaneous question, all Genkai could do was to peel her gaze away from the moon and plant it on the profile of her disciple. His eyebrows were pinched in a thoughtful scowl, coupled with a pondering frown.

He shook his head. "No, wait, let me rephrase that. I mean, I know that she wanders about the forest or around the city but," Yusuke paused, wary of the line he was threading. "Why?"

Why indeed.

A look of understanding softened the pinkette's face and she released a soft scoff at the boy's question. Genkai really couldn't blame him, and as she moved her gaze back to the moon, she thought bck on the weeks they've spent together.

Lan had become a curiosity for the detective during his stay.

A similar situation back in the days with her and Toguro's pupils. Genkai remembered how Lan would always keep her distance from her pupils, exchanging little to no words with anyone other than the duo. Sticking by the background was always the demoness' play, yet she never really can blend within the background. Her aura was one reason. Add in her allure, she was the epitome of an addicting mystery.

So yes, Genkai can understand the detective's interest. But for him, it goes on more than that.

Lan was already a friend in Yusuke's eyes. Behind his curiosity was a simple concern—the need to offer support in the only way he knows he can. The thought alone warmed Genkai greatly, being the very witness between the two's development. It was amusing to observe them, smirking when the boy would initiate conversations and Lan would be drawn by his the warmth in his eyes and the glow of his smile. There may be a rift caused by his occupation, yet the more time they spend with each other's company the more his title became nothing more than meaningless words.

Genkai respected his reasons for asking. Thus, she would divulge what she could.

"Let me ask you first, Yusuke, if you were—say, a little bird who was once free. But out of the blue, someone locked you in a cage, how would you feel?"

"Trapped." Yusuke wrinkled his nose.

He? A bird? Laughable.

"How about when you're allowed to leave from time to time, then? You're allowed to be out of that cage, not to fly but to walk among the dogs. How would you feel?"

' _What?'_ Wide-eyed, Yusuke stared at his mentor as if she has grown another head. "What are you talking abou—"

"Just answer the question."

Yusuke swallowed whatever insult he had ready, giving the psychic a conceding glare as he contemplated his answer.

"Well," he inhaled, mulling over the bizarre concept as serious as he could be. "It'd be. . . weird, I guess. I'm not a dog, but then again, I can't exactly get out of the cage. Can I just bash my way out?"

"That's out of the question."

"Ah. Any other choice then?"

"None."

Yusuke groaned in exasperation, a hand raking his hair in frustration. "Then what do I do? I really don't get the point."

"Exactly."

He froze, dumbfounded. "What?"

Genkai turned her gaze away from the moon to meet his own, an unknown weight holding him in place that suddenly made his throat run dry.

"How would you feel, Yusuke?"

This time, he had the answer. "Confused. And trapped, still."

She smiled. Lack of any warmth or feelings. Yusuke cocked his head with a scowl, wondering what made the pinkette seem so. . . filled with unknown anger.

"Now, answer me this. What if you got used to the treatment, enough so that you consider it as normal?"

Yusuke hummed in thought. "I don't really get it. I mean, if it was normal, then I shouldn't really care but at the same time. . . I'd be unwilling?" He shook his head. "That doesn't really make a sense."

"I know." Genkai smirked at the detective's incredulous stare. But she let him think over his thoughts. Let him hammer down every angle on what to say even if puzzling over a matter wasn't his cup of tea. And when she saw the resurging light glint in those eyes, she knew he found his answer.

Taking in his silence, Genkai continued. "Yusuke, when a bird has forgotten how to fly, they are not themselves. Now, when you finally have the chance to learn how to be who you are, would you take it? Knowing you don't even know how to fly? Would you fall blindly?"

His answer came naturally. "Better than not."

Genkai's lit up at his answer, thoroughly satisfied even though he had no idea about what they just talked about.

But her smile? Yusuke noted how the simple action actually lessened the age on her face. It was startling, but it suited her.

 _'_ _She needs to smile more.'_

Oblivious to his inner musings, Genkai continued once more.

"It is not my place to tell,"—she ignored his frown with a quiet chuckle under her breath—"but remember, Yusuke. Sometimes, it's hard to remain in an enclosed space after being trapped once. Give her time." Pausing, Genkai removed the long sigh that has been building up in her chest, smirking when the detective subconsciously mimicked the action through his nose.

Then with a fond smile, Genkai finished her piece. "Lan is seeing the world for the first time. That's where she was during all these years. Just because she's back and settled here doesn't mean she won't wander from time to time. And this?" She gestured at the vast temple. "This is her nest. Her home, so I know she'll always return."

Dropping his gaze to his hands, Yusuke digested his teacher's words, repeating them in his mind to muse on. In a way, he can understand. She asked him something that's analogical—he assumed—to Lan's history.

"I see." Yusuke muttered and he dropped the subject, already knowing that Genkai wouldn't spill anymore. But he did learn something. Genkai's odd question probably was for her to weigh his answers, and for him to give an inkling of relation to Lan's life.

However, it also raised a few questions of his own. But this time, he was determined for the person herself to answer them.

* * *

 **:)**

 **Thank you sooo much for the reviews and feedback, everyone. I appreciate them all dearly! So, here we see the beginnings of Yusuke and Lan's friendship. I used my relationship with my sibling as my muse to base Yusuke and Lan on. And she also became (somewhat) his trainer too.**

 **Won't be long until Kurama appears, everyone :)**

 **LadyEllesmere** **\- I adore Genkai. She's basically the epitome of feminine power in the series, that's why I had Lan become her friend. I'm glad you like their relationship :)**

 **redheadforlife** **\- Genkai's character is very interesting and humbling for me. She's intelligent, strict and tough. And yet, beneath it all, she harbors deep care towards Yusuke. She did say he's the closest she'll ever have to a son. I love that about Genkai, but I wanted to explore what she'd be like when she's younger and since she's very close with Yusuke (and he's her successor), I figured why not compare them? Have them similar in trait. I'm glad you like the pacing, you're very patient XD The 'Rings' won't be discussed until later in the story though. . . don't worry, there will be hints in between.**

 **Bubble Smoosher** **\- Thank you!**

 **Sidako \- Your compliment warms me a lot. I'm happy that you enjoy my writing and what I'm writing about. And best friends do bring out the tears in you sometimes. I agree, time has no rules when it comes to reuniting with your best friend. You just overlook it :)**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"U Can Do It"_ by Domino**


	6. Chapter 4

**a/n : I apologize for the late update, everyone! Had been busy for the last couple of months, dealing with some personal documents and eyeing some potential schools for college soon. Concluding the Saint Beasts Arc had been more of a challenge than I thought, but I'm done with it so, an update!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own YYH. All rights belong to Yoshihiro Togashi. The plot, Lan and a couple more OCs are all I own.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **f|o|u|r**

* * *

 _" **TOGURO** ," she mumbled, voice small and unsure. "What do you call this?"_

 _He chuckled, deep and husky, that would only be suitable for a man with his bulk._

 _"That, Lan," he cradled the small wooden piece within his fingers. "Is a shogi piece."_

 _Lan furrowed her brows in thought, head cocked to one side as she regarded the rectangular board laid out before her. Toguro sat across from her on the board's other side, staring at her with kind eyes and a patient smile as she fiddled with the pieces._

 _"This is a game." She repeated what he said earlier, though her confusion was mingled in her voice. "I'm afraid I do not understand."_

 _"What don't you understand?" Toguro placed back the piece on its place. "Was it the rules, the mechanics, or the pieces?"_

 _"The purpose." Lan straightened on her perch, back straight with her hands poised on her lap. "You create a very detailed set of rules with very specific limitations. The goal is to achieve domination over the other—but is nothing but a mere game?" The word sat oddly on her tongue._

 _"Why create a strategic plan for a game when it's better to apply it for battle?"_

 _She was being serious. The drive of this game, Shogi, was askew. A game seemed shallow, a complete waste of thought and time to even consider. What is this even? An old board with grids and a small pile of wooden pieces with characters inked onto them. Why reserve strategy for this?_

 _Lan was being serious, but Toguro only laughed._

 _"This is called a game, Lan, because it allows us relaxation." Picking up a piece, Toguro began the first move. "But at the same time, it sharpens the mind."_

 _"But what for?"_

 _"For anything." Toguro shrugged._

 _Lan frowned, lips parting to object, yet couldn't. Here she sat, mulling over some. . . some chips. After two months of staying in this temple, Toguro decided now (out of all times) to call for her to join him by the veranda, and he showed her this. He taught her the rules and the mechanics of this strange activity patiently, not even having the need to repeat twice during the whole ordeal._

 _It was easy enough to follow for Lan, but she could have been outside right now, observing in those strange animal creatures while staying clear of the Forbidden Forest. She had no desire with crossing paths with other demons at the moment._

 _Yet instead of doing her bidding, she was stuck here to supposedly concoct some strategy (not that it was difficult) to win—and gain nothing._

 _"Just try," Toguro encouraged. "You might find that you'll enjoy it."_

 _"I doubt it."_

 _Sighing, Lan shook her head, yet she made no movement to leave. In the end, she did try—mostly for Toguro's sake, she owed it to him after he convinced Genkai to give her a chance._

 _Pleased, Toguro said nothing else. They played twice that day._

 _And again two days after._

 _Then another after that day._

 _A week later, Genkai joined in, and Lan discovered just how verbal the pinkette could be when losing. It's not like it's Lan's fault, the game was a breeze to her._

 _But Toguro was right, she did begin to enjoy it. Only because Genkai started laughing with her, overly warm and jovial, and Toguro would smile more._

 _Even though a game seemed to be a waste of time still, Lan enjoyed it because of them._

 **x**

A straight cut passed as a clean blow, angled swift and true—deadly and precise. One meant to disarm rather than to harm. It came as a simple slice from the heel of her palm to his collarbone, a mere inch from grazing the fatal pressure point. A fraud of a caress. Nonetheless, the pain came igniting as he stumbled from the impact, oblivious to the harmless tree root protruding from behind until it caught his ankle.

"FUCK!"

Straightening herself up, Lan brushed her plait off her shoulders, letting the tail rest on her back as she stared at the heap of pulsing limbs of the detective lying spread-eagled—too dazed and exhausted to care about the sun grinning all too brightly at his face and the dirt starting to cling on his sweat-matted hair.

Boring at his heaving chest, Lan clicked her tongue. "Too slow."

"Damn you," he exhaled, trying in vain to appear menacing. He couldn't even lift his head. "You cheat!"

Shrugging, Lan approached the detective, offering a hand when she did so. "Do you really think your enemies will play fair?" Cocking her head to the side, she pulled when Yusuke finally—weak and shaky—grasped her hand.

Frowning at the thought, Yusuke fought back the wince when he was brought back on his feet, suddenly aware of every throb and pulse his muscles gave.

"No," he mumbled. "But that was still messed up. No wonder you and that ghoul are friends." Brushing his own trousers (his shirt long discarded to avoid being tattered and bathed in sweat), Yusuke raised a tentative hand to rub his aching left collarbone, eyes narrowed at the bruising area.

"This one's lower than the last. . ." Scrunching his nose in memory, the hand rubbing the sore spot on his collarbone went further up until he was kneading the side of his neck. "It still hurts a bit too." He grumbled, craning his neck at the ache still crawling electricity on the left side of his neck.

Lan followed the movement of his hand, unable to deny the twinge of worry creeping at the mess of bruises painting his worn body in shades of morbid blue and ugly black.

"I can soothe the pain away later."

Yusuke merely arched a brow at her offer. "That's nice. What's the catch?"

"It's an offer out of generosity," covering her chuckle with a huff, Lan began making her way back towards the temple, the tail of her braid swishing as she goes. "Do not think this will be offered more than once."

"Fine." Scowling in thought, Yusuke shakily tailed behind her, compulsively dragging his tired feet just to keep up.

The walk back proved to be challenging as each step ignited a protest from his pained limbs—his shoulders stiff and heavy with his knees creaking like rusted gears. Heck, he couldn't even distinguish a spot on his person that's _not_ in pain. And to add more to his agony, they had gone quite a distance away from the temple since their spar started.

Which was hours ago, at dawn—long before the sun even dared to wake.

Again, Yusuke cursed at the wind.

"The ghoul sure knows how to give a parting gift."

Amused, Lan shook her head at his continuous grumbles, uncaring when her action simply prompted the delinquent to pass a glare at her. He seethed at the fact that she's not even sweating, nor panting—not a trace of their heated spar except for the glint of adrenaline still present in her gaze.

Grinding his teeth (wincing when his jaw protested), Yusuke felt his frustration mount when she still refused to bend under his request: to teach him how to strike pressure points.

Thinking back on his unexpected interest, Yusuke still remembered the day unlike any other. It was their third spar so far and she had caught him unannounced from behind, her forefinger poking ever so softly—a mockery to his slow reflexes then—just at the base of his nape.

There was no pain.

But he could not. Move. His. Damn. Body.

After he had gotten over his defeat (because what could he do? He's puny compared to her, but he wouldn't admit that to her smug face), Yusuke promptly requested (not really, he was trying to force her to) for her to teach him how to do that. It would prove to be quite useful in his opinion, and just too damn cool to not consider learning it. It was the first time he had wanted to learn something, eager and bouncing as he was, until she replied a flat out: "No."

Pouting at his recollection, Yusuke couldn't help but mutter to himself at the unjustice of it all.

Aware of his current musings, Lan decided to play blind. She did not want to indulge in the topic of pressure points.

For all she knew, the detective would have the initial thinking of human pressure points. A similar case for her, really. Against a human, she would have to apply that concept, but demonic pressure points?

Unlikely.

Demonic pressure points were quite difficult to comprehend for someone new to the craft, each point depends on the individual structure and bulk of a demon—and they vary. Youki might not be as potentially strong as a human's reiki, but the flow of a youki does not run as smoothly nor as consistent as reiki. Thus, it is essentially more difficult to cage in.

In any case, she was sure Yusuke was blind to the amount of patience needed to learn a technique like hers, and patience is something he still lacks. Severely.

In their previous spars, she made certain to alter the strength behind her strikes, the thought of accidentally stopping the life energy of the Reikai Tantei hotwired her very blood. Doing so proved to be quite onerous, and other times, she would forget. But whenever she did, however, would be subtly dealt with by hindering her aim to avoid fatal damages.

Just as she did earlier.

"Cease your grumbles, Yusuke. This will be the last spar of ours. Until then."

The last part was hastily added, unsure on when Genkai would call upon him again to continue his training. Knowing her friend, it's more than likely for him to be sent back as soon as possible. Though she had mentioned it before (the detective responding in bouts of writhing laughter), Lan is positive that if it weren't for his school (and oblivious mother and friends), Genkai would have kept him here until he would complete his training. Otherwise, the only times the pinkette would allow him to be sent away would be during his missions.

He refused to believe school gave him luck.

"Good." Yusuke winced between gritted teeth, pushing one foot after the other with strenuous effort. "I can't take another week of this hell stealing away my vacation."

Sensing another impending rant about how he should have been wasting his vacation in video games, Lan could only chuckle in honest humor.

A week ago, video games were a subject he had thoroughly explained to her when she had implied that she did not know what it was. Horror-stricken, he had coerced her into sneaking both of them out during the day (a break from training) to pay a little visit in this arcade he spoke so highly of. She was adamant to decline. Spending time alone with the detective sounded and felt odd from an ex-criminal.

But in the end, her curiosity on the subject at matter won. For someone like him, he's quite convincing. Lan had simply accompanied him back to the suburbs of the city while he was mischievously giddy on the prospect of sneaking out under Genkai's nose. However, Lan knew better when she caught the familiar whiff of peach and tea when she and Yusuke ran down the winding stairs to the temple.

Genkai had let them be.

The only downside in their impromptu trip was Yusuke's snappy mutterings later on—after he had spent all of the allowances he brought on the train fee and on the arcade. Which, he added, was all the money he brought for his whole stay. Lan, even if she tried, did not find it in her to feel sympathetic.

Neither regretted that day, though. The hard training that came the day after? Lan had expected that. But it was safe to say that she became quite knowledgeable about this oddly jocose video gaming.

Back in the present, once the two arrived in the temple, Lan waited for Yusuke to drag himself inside, amused at the way he waddled out of pain.

"I need a shower." He grumbled, stomping his way past the veranda along with Lan.

Raking the stray leaves off his hazardous locks with stiff fingers, Yusuke automatically turned down towards the hall that led to the bathroom, intent on washing away the filth caked all over his body. _'She just had to kick me down to roll all over. Like animals don't shit on the ground.'_

"As much as I would agree that you do need one—" Lan began, effectively halting Yusuke's stride.

She smirked when he pivoted on his toe with a frightening glower on his face.

"Your nose doesn't get an opinion!"

Lan ignored the insult with a wave of her hand. "Do hurry up. Genkai wants you out of her hair in an hour."

" _She_ doesn't get an opinion either!"

"I have no qualms in dragging you out in whatever state you're in, Yusuke." She smiled, disconcerting in all angles imaginable.

Funny, how their interactions became so carefree as opposed to their initial tiptoeing around the other. The light feeling remained even as the detective lumbered down the hall to resume his journey to take a shower, swearing the whole way with an unmistakeable tugging of his bottom lip.

Shaking her head, Lan shifted her gaze onto nothing, feet still rooted on the spot as her mind remained heavy in jumbled confusion and overwhelming content.

With Yusuke gone, so did her calm.

Everything had moved so fast since she returned, the days blurring until she was having difficulty trying to pinpoint the times she had been trying to be a stranger towards the delinquent and the time when she started seeking him out herself.

A month.

A mere month.

Just one month and she's already comfortable around the young boy. The boy who couldn't even reach a smidgeon of her lifespan. The boy who was far too brash, crude, and foolishly lucky. The boy who was supposed to arrest her.

At times, she wonders if she purposely sought such complications in her already complicated life.

"Lan."

Genkai's smooth voice pulled the demoness out of her short stupor. Gently turning on her heel, she flitted her eyes down—and met the calculating gaze of Genkai.

"Yes?"

For a moment, it looked like the pinkette had something to say. Lan could see it from the twitch of her lips.

No words were uttered.

"Make sure he gets home safely."

Gesturing towards the direction the boy went to, Genkai left just as soon as she passed, leaving Lan to ingest the thought alone.

Today was the day Yusuke had long been waiting for—his day of freedom. It was no wonder why he was singing praises at the crack of dawn.

He had all the reason to.

But for Lan and Genkai, today came with brimming uncertainty— the day that mercilessly slapped the very question right onto their queasy faces.

What now?

* * *

Nearly an hour later (as promised, Lan did barge into the bathroom to drag him out of the house. Fortunately, he was already dressed), Urameshi Yusuke found himself lingering. Somewhat unsure, tentative. A tugging tight around his limbs and heart that refused to let go.

A feeling that went almost too shocking.

With his duffle bag stuffed and ready with all of his belonging, Yusuke surveyed his room once more. He had cleaned it to the best of his abilities, making sure that the futon was rolled and kept inside the small closet before clearing all the spare pillows and blankets he had slept in for the past month (Genkai really should have another dresser or a closet with wider space). Once he was satisfied with that, Yusuke didn't waste time in sweeping the little dust that coated the floor, knowing Genkai would have nagged until his ears bleed if he didn't clean.

Now this place looked cleaner than before he moved in. He grinned, puffing his chest as he swung the strap of his bag over one shoulder.

It was then that Yusuke froze, the grin falling as he surveyed the naked room. Exactly as how it was when he first got here, yet different.

It didn't change the gaping truth that the room— _his_ room felt empty now. Devoid of any of his messy trademarks of unmade beds and strewn clothes. It left a foreign taste on the tip of his tongue.

Leaving it felt odd now.

Raising a hand before his gaze, Yusuke eyed the numerous cuts on each of his fingers. His body still felt sore all over—weak from the constant rigorous training. Yet at the same time, he could feel the difference. The improvement.

Strength soared in his veins, and Yusuke felt incredibly light and comfortable in his body. His energy sang at the smoother flow and though he knew it was far from perfect, the fact is, he felt stronger. He _is_ stronger.

A feat he actually feels proud at.

Grasping the strap to his bag tighter, Yusuke offered a small farewell at the small space. A bare and empty room that he made his own. An unexpected home.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually going to miss the old hag."

"Very touching, Yusuke. You will be missed too."

Startled, Yusuke staggered with a loud yelp. Whirling around to meet the amused gaze of none other than his mentor, he scowled.

Oh, how he wanted to beat that pesky smirk off her face.

"A warning would have been nice!"

A chuckle vibrated deep in Genkai's chest, openly showing her amusement at his expense with her arched brows and. "Do I look like the type to knock?"

"No," hoisting his bag higher, Yusuke followed when Genkai strode out of the room and into the hall, assuming the latter would escort him out. "You really don't belong under the normal category though."

Huffing a chuckle, Genkai proceeded to walk down the hall, setting a slow pace after shutting the shoji to his room close. Where it would remain so for a long time.

"Hypocrisy does not suit you, Yusuke."

"Well, you dealt with me as your student. That's crazier."

Genkai didn't refuse the booming laughter this time, urging her pupil to join along with her bouts of chuckles, a feral grin erasing the traces of his previous pout.

The smug, almost satisfied glint in those brazen eyes only prolonged her laughter, shifting only into a sober, endearing chain of heartfelt chuckles.

"So, now that I'm gonna be away, you can have all the time kissing your tobacco."

The mention of her smoke spurred a snort from her. "I doubt it. Someone won't be happy."

"Yeah," Yusuke hummed in mocked seriousness. "Lan would definitely not enjoy it. She'd probably dump you with this one-sided friendship you two got."

"One-sided?"

As if the knowledge was obvious, Yusuke merely shrugged. "She follows your every whim like a puppy at times, I'm almost concerned. You got her domesticated."

A quick hand snapped at the unsuspecting detective, hitting the back of his head with an audible smack that urged a cry from him. "Careful, Yusuke."

"OW!" One hand reaching out to rub the pain away, Yusuke scowled. "What the heck, Lan?!"

His response was a warning glare, the intent lost with the ghost of a smirk visible on her lips.

"Don't push it. I'm just starting to like you." Shifting her gaze lower to meet Genkai's, Lan gestured at the front yard over her shoulder, staring at the start of the winding stairs. "I'll wait at the bottom of the stairs."

With no acknowledgment for the grumbling detective, Lan turned on her heel, flickering out of sight from the entrance Genkai and Yusuke had unknowingly reached.

With the demoness gone, Genkai stayed silent, knowing that her friend had just given her privacy to bid farewell to her student, a gesture she appreciated because, despite the knowledge of having Yusuke to come back to complete his training, his presence had seeded deep within this temple that Genkai knew she would miss him—all of his loud and rambunctious self. Maybe even (not) his insults.

Bottom line was, Yusuke leaving would leave the temple even quieter than how it was before.

 _'Ah, sentiments.'_ Genkai smiled wryly.

"You're sending her to babysit me on my way home?" Oblivious (and frankly, he didn't care) to her thoughts, Yusuke jammed a thumb towards the spot Lan disappeared. "She hates the smell on the train."

"No, she volunteered." Genkai snorted with a roll of her eyes. Five minutes before their spar would commence, Lan had casually stridden in the living room where the pinkette was enjoying her tea and announced that she would accompany the detective on his way home, just to make sure he wouldn't collapse out for exhaustion along the way.

Genkai hadn't even had the chance to nod when the demoness walked out, following the overly excited shout of Yusuke's coming from the yard.

"She can bare through the horror," Genkai let loose a small simper, igniting yet another mutual humor between her and her disciple—teasing the demoness' dog-like attributes. "She's been exposed to pollution for a while now, hasn't she?"

"Oh." Surprise widened Yusuke's eyes, soaking in the information thoroughly until a wide grin spread on his face. "Well, I'll be damned. She is just starting to like me!"

At that, Genkai fought the urge to roll her eyes in jest. Though deep down, she couldn't deny the immense gratitude she held for the brat. Brass, cocky and downright reckless, yet one who managed to evoke peace within her.

Genkai would certainly miss these banters. Outside of training, she and Yusuke went along just fine. More than fine.

Perhaps, what Lan said was right. They are alike in more ways than one.

Eyes sobering from his humor, Yusuke took in a huge gulp of air, letting the cozy breeze of Genkai's abode flood familiarity within him. It wouldn't be goodbye, but it was difficult—weird, to suddenly revert back to his old routinely days of useless school and nosy teachers. Those days felt like centuries ago now. For the detective, his routinely days began with the ghoul kicking him out of his bed before the sun wakes on its throne.

He'll have to adjust again.

"I guess I better go now," glancing down at his mentor, a sincere smile perched onto his face. "You two try not to miss me too much now, all right."

"You're delusional if I would," Genkai replied with a shut of her eyes, the curl of her lips unmistakeable even as she fought it. "Although I don't think you'd have time missing Lan too much."

"What do you mean?" Yusuke arched a brow in confusion. Isn't she staying here with you?"

"Of course, idiot. This is her home."

Genkai lowered her shoulders, content filling her heart now that (wandering aside) Lan will finally stay. Yusuke must have sensed the change for he smiled, admiring the deep seed of friendship buried between those two. A human and a demon, no less.

"The point is," Genkai temporarily bit down her satisfaction with a huff. "I'm not the only one she has now, so don't be surprised when she'll pay you a visit every now and then whenever she'd wander."

Yusuke felt his eyes widen, choked out of words with the gratitude heavily laced in her voice.

Even so, she pushed through the emotions without fail, her intent merely to show her disciple the potential impact he has on Lan's life without the humor. Nothing but sober truth ringing loud in the air between them.

"I'm old, Yusuke. . . I won't live long."

That made the detective recoil. As someone who has died, he knew what death could do to a loved one. . . And as far as he knows, Genkai was the only one Lan has. The thought itself made dread pool in the pit of his stomach.

"It's good that she's interacting with someone other myself. She can trust you, and you can trust her. That, I assure you."

Yusuke could do nothing but offer a small nod. Though unsure why, his heart gave a tight clench, sensing the underlying emotion riddled with a mysterious message. He heard the warning, the desperation, and the plea.

The plea to believe her.

Their conversation last night replayed in his head. Her words clear when she tried to give a smidgeon of light in Lan's situation. It wasn't complete, but Yusuke was more focused on the fact that his mentor had just subtly begged him to believe in Lan.

Was it really that bad that he has to be begged?

Whether or not Genkai noticed his confusion, she gave no indication. It was getting later into the morning and the sun was rising higher. So, with a sudden change of her solemn face into a warm front, she bid the detective a temporary farewell, not wanting to keep him from reuniting with his family and resume his job as the Reikai Tantei.

Yusuke responded with a hum and a nod, still reeling with the prospect of Genkai's age. It left a foreign taste on his tongue, it didn't seem right for her time to be so near. A looming clock to count her days, even if she was drier than a prune.

No. It didn't sit right with Yusuke. She's too snarky to even be close to dying.

All too soon, Yusuke was already at the looming gate to Genkai's temple—not even realizing that his feet had moved without the instruction of his brain.

Then he paused.

She's not dying. Not on his watch.

Yusuke turned around, a grin in place to rid of the gloom on his face.

"I don't really peg you to be the type to accept death so easily. You're more like the type to tell death to wait on his fat ass because you have something to do. And you do. You didn't wait for fifty years just to die on her now, did you?"

Shocked, Genkai stood with a slack jaw—frozen, astonished and thoroughly chastised.

With that, Yusuke resumed his walk, one hand gripping the strap to his bag whilst he raised the other, waving a farewell as he began to descend the river of stairs.

"See you soon, you senile old lady."

And then he was gone.

With a smile and a shake of her head, Genkai stalked back inside her home.

Urameshi Yusuke was a rare kind of unnerving, she'll give him that—the rare kind of unnerving who refused to pass through your life without punching a sense of clarity in you.

"See you soon, dimwit."

* * *

"Yo!"

A minute later, Lan saw Yusuke approach from the bottom of the stairs, raising a brow at the wide grin he offered as a greeting coupled with a quick ruffle of her hair. Alarmed, she instinctively inched away the second his fingers made contact with her fringe, cautious at the almost exposure of her mark.

Fortunately, the boy seemed to accept it as a space complex and shrugged it off, his grin refusing to drop even as he ushered for her to follow him.

"Let's go! We have a train to catch."

He puffed his chest, flicked a thumb against his nose, then marched away with a slight limp—leaving Lan to wonder what had transpired between him and Genkai to evoke such an odd demeanor from him.

Surprisingly, it didn't end there.

His convivial behavior became more profound when he abruptly regarded her more openly at their arrival in the train station—ignoring the gaping mouths of the other passengers at their appearance (with Yusuke looking like he went through hell and back). She itched to ask what the matter was, but the detective was adamant to engage in casual conversations with laughter and friendly jokes in between.

Now while confused, Lan didn't actually mind. She had grown used to his sarcastic humor, though she couldn't phantom his determination when he implied about skipping school once more.

During the train ride, Yusuke had accidentally leaned onto her when it lurched forward, and she finally confronted him about the small limp he walked with earlier on their way to the station. He spouted a rant about looking too weak, but conceded to let her offer her support in the end.

"This doesn't look weird at all." He muttered under his breath, an arm slung over her shoulders.

"Your injuries ask you to disregard pride." She replied.

"Sure, sure."

Huffing, Lan dug the heel of her palm on the base of his spine until he flinched against her side.

"Don't worry," she whispered, angling her face slightly towards Yusuke's. "You are helping me too. Your scent covers the others."

"How convenient. For you."

Thinning her lips, Lan chose not to answer, sewing her mouth shut for the rest of the ride with an arm keeping the detective upright as she held onto the pole. And for once, Yusuke followed suit—a pause from his senseless chatters while he tried to reign in his embarrassment for looking like a ragdoll.

Thankfully, he only had to endure for forty minutes.

"This is our stop."

He walked off, his limp magically easing away as the prospect of home excited him. Lan shadowed his steps, tongue against teeth when a nameless woman passed her by with a powerful scent of perfume.

Yusuke laughed at her face and solely labeled it as karma.

Bemused, she rolled her eyes.

After the lengthy train ride, Yusuke went back to his chatty behavior—beaming under the sun as he conversed freely with her. Along the way, Lan shook her head, sighing through her nose at the numerous turned heads they had gathered. It was disconcerting—and she made it known with a few narrowed looks towards those who lingered for too long.

"Come on," Yusuke paused some time during their walk, leading her to a nearby stall. "Let's eat."

Genkai had lent him enough money to at least afford some food along the way, and he planned to do just that. He was starving, thus, he was quick in purchasing some snacks.

Lan caught the melonpan he tossed at her, taking a moment to take in the food whilst he wasted no time in ravenously before consuming his.

Shrugging, she took a bite—and froze.

The round bread was _delicious;_ a firework of tantalizing sugar on her tongue with a thick and crispy exterior—yet heavenly soft on the inside.

It was different to the usual mantou she'd consume.

"This is good."

"I know, right?" Yusuke smirked, disposing their trash once they were done eating. With a flourish, he invited her forward.

"Shall we?"

And so they continued, dodging past the people going the opposite way with idle talk.

Lan smiled, warmed at their eased relationship. She didn't expect this. Perhaps maybe a civil distance, but never this.

Very similar to the start of her own friendship with Genkai.

Other than the pinkette, she had only been like this with Toguro—the person who had knocked down her fears with his powerful words, the one who taught her how to cook and attempted to joke along with her whenever Genkai grew red in fury.

And also the person who had given her that indescribable look when she confronted him about Kairen, alone, as a means of comfort.

Shoving aside the grief that came with the memories, Lan focused more on Yusuke. Carefree Yusuke frolicking under his new-found freedom.

She hoped he'll never fall like her own comrade did.

When the delinquent noticed her attention centered on his person, he cracked another tiny grin and nudged his shoulder against hers. His smile fell to a wince though, jarring a frustrated bruise with his movement.

Lan scowled. "You should not have done that."

"Shut up," Yusuke rubbed his shoulder with a pout. "I was trying to be friendly."

"But you got hurt."

"By being friendly? Yeah, I was."

Cocking her head owlishly to one side, Lan figured that it would take time for her to completely understand Yusuke.

As they resumed their stroll, it didn't take long for the exhaustion to ease its pesky fingers around the detective's throbbing limbs, making way for the pain to suddenly cry out from each black and blue evident on his heaving torso and slouched back. His ragged shirt covered most of his marred skin, but the ones dotting his bare arms introduced what's behind the thin fabric.

Throwing his head back with a groan, Yusuke felt like cursing the sun that was glowing far too bright and hot on his back. The little time he took to freshen himself up back at Genkai's was useless under the heat. Their journey underneath this weather simply made him want to curl up in his home naked in front of a fan and not leave. Maybe even sleep for a few days. He didn't care that Genkai was concerned with his school, he could very damn well enter a class anytime he pleases.

After all, the only thing waiting for him behind those gates were some lousy classmates, obnoxious teachers, a nagging Keiko, and a nosy Takenaka.

 _'What joy.'_

His irritation didn't stem from that too, for as soon as Lan noticed the tiny wobble on his knees—he didn't think he was actually wobbling—she swiftly ignored any of his loud protests and threats and proceeded to sling one of his arms over her narrow shoulders just like she did in the train ride, holding his wrist in place whilst she snaked her other arm around his waist. Again.

"Hey!" Struggling, Yusuke tried to wiggle out of her iron hold. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Lan didn't answer to his snark, responding simply with a roll of her eyes. Along with a soft mumble (he swore he heard it!) of, "Idiot."

And then she ran.

And when he meant run, he meant unlike-a-human run.

She ran like the fucking whirlwind.

The scream (damn his wounded pride) that tore his throat had probably terrorized anyone within the area. Heck, he bet the old ghoul could actually hear it all the way from the temple because— _shit_ Lan was going way too fast for his unsuspecting stomach.

When she did stop, they were already in the suburbs of the city in a deserted alley and that was where she gave him his space—letting the boy calm his erratic heart by inhaling gulps of air to stop the circus flipping in his stomach.

The damn woman even chuckled at his predicament.

"You—" he heaved for dramatic effect. "— _bitch_."

Lan only smiled.

Taking his time to catch his breath, Yusuke placed one hand to support himself against the wall as the demoness tried asking about the directions to his school to fill in the silence. The query took him off guard and he paused, twisting his lips in thought.

He recalled Genkai's words from this morning—about how Lan would undoubtedly drop in an unsuspecting visit from now on here and there—and made a silent nod of confirmation in his head. He wouldn't be averse to that idea. In fact, he'd quite welcome it. But just as he started with the address to his school with the name, Sarayashiki Junior High, Lan stopped him there, saying that she already knew where it would be located.

Yusuke blinked—then hummed. He didn't question how she knew, figuring that she had seen his school in one of her nightly bouts of meandering around the city. With her impeccable memory especially towards unseen, little details, she probably did.

Lan really does possess some of the strangest skills Yusuke knew of—that and her above than average sense of smell, which she says were even higher than any demon's.

He called her a hound once just for that.

Shaking his head to hide his amusement, Yusuke decided it was time to move again after stiffly rejecting Lan's offer to support him again. Fortunately for him, his apartment was nearby, enough for them to just walk. Looks like he'll have to pocket the bus money Genkai gave him. Sweet.

"We can just walk to my home from here. And no more running like the wind, okay?"

Chuckling in mirth, Lan abided to his whims. "Where to?"

"Well, the street's—"

"No," she cut him off. "I meant the landmarks near your area. Or any familiar descriptions that will lead to your place."

Yusuke figured then and there that she doesn't really care for formal addresses. After describing his new apartment, Lan easily pointed out which direction to take to get there faster.

He was impressed.

"You're quite the explorer, aren't you? You know your way around here better than I do." And that was saying something. "Where else have you gone to?"

Lan grinned, showing her upper teeth as she oozed with a glimmer of pride.

"I have gone through most of Asia's regions along with some territories of Russia in the past fifty years, so to speak. Siberia, mostly." Lan thought back on the magical snow that glittered everything when she passed by that Russian province. She remembered winter in Hokkaido, had even spent one too many in that province, and could confidently say that it pales in comparison to Siberia. The Russian province was a silver glow during the whole winter. Crystalline and pristine.

Beautiful.

Yusuke let out a low whistle, awed. "Damn. Ever think of going further?"

Lan nodded. "I would have if I hadn't returned. I have yet to visit the Middle East."

Yusuke widened his eyes. To say he was curious was an understatement. The prospect of odd cultures of other countries somewhat sparked an interest in him, but the distance she traveled was what amazed the detective more. Most of Asia? And Russia? He knew she went to places for fifty years, but that had far exceeded his expectations.

 _'Some sightseeing.'_ "You know, I haven't heard of a nomadic kind of a demon before."

"Well, now you've met one."

Grinning, Yusuke led the way on his way home, stumbling a little when his stomach gave a little squeeze. An aftereffect to her demonic run with him.

"Are you all right?" She asked, steadying him with a grip on his arm.

"Yeah," he wheezed. "Just warn me next time."

"I apologize." Sheepish, Lan tipped her head towards him with a smile.

He only rolled his eyes in response, mentally thinking back to that midget demon he fought once. Hiei was quick and light on his feet too, and Yusuke never thought he'd meet another who could stand in par with that speed until Lan. Though when he compared the two in his mind, he had no doubt that the midget would win—with a challenge, but still win in terms of speed. Lan was more on agility and flexibility ("You have no bones or whatsoever." he stated then during a spar, dumbfounded and terrified at the way she arched her back so low just to dodge his kick).

Nodding softly to himself, Yusuke concluded. The woman was simply an expert in balancing her weight that it gave her an extra boost in upping her speed, but his conclusion made Yusuke wonder briefly.

Genkai was a skilled human, feared by most of the demonic population. Lan was an accomplice of hers. Surely, Reikai would know someone who is affiliated with the famous Genkai.

 _'Maybe I can ask Botan?'_ He hummed. Maybe he could.

Lan chose that moment to break the short silence then, staring at the detective from the corner of her eyes.

"Other than me," she started, curious and eager to know. "What kind of demons have you encountered so far?"

"Huh?" Blinking out his stupor, Yusuke brought one hand to count off with his fingers. "Well, there was this big and nasty one called Gouki, he's the kind of bastard who eats children's souls. Maybe you know him? That shithead still makes me sick." Gritting his teeth, Yusuke clenched his fists to reign in the liquid anger pulsing in his veins, still bothered at the scene of their battle—of seeing a child's soul wriggle out of their mouth akin to a candle's wisp.

A similar expression crossed Lan's features. Dark and forbidding, disgusted yet resigned.

"I've met others like that. They're vile demons, feasting on children. I regret to say that there are probably more of those kinds." Lan whispered, almost apologetic, head lowering with a sigh. "Human souls are common food to most demons. Not all, but most."

Yusuke shrugged, opting to forget his encounter with that giant. His fight with Gouki had been frightening, and he sincerely thought he'd die just as soon as he returned to life.

"Yeah, well. He's gone now. I can't chase all the suckers just like him but, if I'd ever see another one, then they'll pay."

Lan nodded, not supplying an answer as Yusuke quickly went back to her question to distract him from Gouki.

"Gouki was the first demon I officially fought, but the last one was the reason why I entered that stupid tournament in the first place."

At this, Lan perked. He had never mentioned the reason why entered Genkai's Tournament before, just tidbits about his life and the selected people in it.

"Who?"

"His name was Randou. He was gonna steal the hag's Spirit Wave technique and use it to his power, intending her to be his hundredth victim or something like that. So I went undercover to catch him, and we fought in the last round."

"What happened?" Lan questioned, noticing the familiar narrowing of his eyes whenever he gets angry. This one seemed to have angered him more than the previous one mentioned.

Wrinkling his nose, Yusuke sucked in a deep breath. "He harmed Kuwabara, played with his body and shit when he shrunk him just like this," Yusuke held one hand up with a tiny gap between his outstretched thumb and forefinger. Lan calculated the size around two inches and a half with a frown.

A human shrunken to that size would merely take a pressured caress and they'd shatter.

"I managed to beat him. It was a close one, but I won. Heard of him?" Yusuke asked, recalling Botan mention Randou having a reputation as well.

Which was why he was surprised when Lan shook her head.

"How come you don't? I thought he's supposed to be famous or something."

"I don't interact much with my demonkind since after meeting Genkai," Lan supplied. "I don't bother."

The barrier.

Suddenly aware that the demoness still wasn't completely comfortable in his presence, Yusuke withdrew, dropping the question with nothing but a quick glance to her cool face. Still, he couldn't mistake the clipped tone in her voice for anything else.

Yusuke simply reverted back, inching away from the wall she still held between them.

"I see." He shrugged, easing his tone into a lighter one to diffuse the tension. "Well, other than him, there's Hiei. He's a pesky little one, I'll tell you that. He's really quick—and also really short." At the memory of his encounter with the said demon, Yusuke snorted in laughter. His first impression of the apparition hadn't been nice—a brooding pipsqueak with a grown-up voice.

The change in his demeanor piqued Lan, willingly disregarding her hardened attitude in exchange for his lighter conversation.

"You. . . respect this one?"

"Respect?" Yusuke barked at the prospect. "Yeah, sure. Maybe. I mean, he's really fast. Probably would have died if I wasn't so lucky." His throat gave a light squeeze, forcing himself to swallow the small ball of trepidation. He hadn't dwelled on the fact until now that, if his shot hadn't ricocheted as it did, the outcome would've been disastrous.

Oh well.

He's still alive.

"Genkai agrees to that. 'A boy stringed by luck', were her exact words to describe you." Lan didn't resist the smirk when the detective shot her a glare. It would've been stronger—the glare—if Lan didn't detect the amusement swimming in his eyes. "I agree with her opinion."

Yusuke agrees to that too. Silently.

"Anyone else?" Lan continued, leading him to turn around another corner to his street.

They were almost there, a little more dragging of their feet and he'll reach his home. Safe and uninjured, just as she saw fit. And yet for some reason, something grew within Lan—a tight emotion that came with the halting reality of Yusuke leaving.

No more screaming insults. No more conversations before breakfasts. No more amusing banters between him and Genkai.

No more spars.

It was—with a start—that Lan felt herself relishing the familiar emotion back to when she left Genkai fifty years ago. The hesitation, the urge to stall. She felt those in her bones now, and it all blurred into the very the reason why she volunteered to accompany him home.

She didn't think she'd feel this way again.

Enma, she was actually _yearning_ for his presence and he hadn't even left yet.

Lan almost stumbled at the weight of her realization. She didn't expect for this light relationship with him to bud into something else, something as iron as her relationship with Genkai. After all, accepting him as Genkai's disciple had been easy enough. Accepting him as someone occurrent in Genkai's life had been hesitant, but she did. Accepting him not as a stranger but as an amusing acquaintance was terrifying enough as it is. But as a friend?

The Spirit Detective and a demon criminal—friends?

How silly.

But the fact still remains. She does consider him as a friend now—has been for a while, actually. She just hasn't been fully aware of it until now.

Oblivious to her epiphany, Yusuke continued his tale, this time focusing on a certain demon he regarded as decent.

"There's another one I know. His name's Kurama." He scrunched his nose, suddenly unsure. "I still think his background really does resemble some sort of a boy band member, but he's cool. Really kind and friendly too."

Kind and friendly? Lan inwardly scoffed at that. Combining those two adjectives with a demon seems very farfetched. If anything, Yusuke seemed to describe him more as a human than of a demon.

His next statement confirmed her line of thoughts.

"Kurama's sort of a half-human, half-demon kind of a guy. He said his demon soul merged with that of his human soul. I don't really get it much, but he cares a lot for his mother and that's an okay enough guy for me." Yusuke finished with a shrug, then turned to give her a questioning look."Is being half-human, half-demon thing normal for your kind or—?"

"No." She frowned. "Not that I know of."

 _'A demon who fused their soul with a human's,'_ Lan stayed silent, the conversation dying as they spotted the building to his apartment, but she lost focus on that matter.

What Yusuke said was far from ordinary.

The demons the detective said to have encountered sparked an interest within her—but none unlike the last one. In her days back in Makai, words of soul fusion hovered about everywhere. Extensive experiments and studies were done by the most ambitious of demons and she had heard enough to gather its effect.

Soul fusion is a trifle action to do so—very dangerous to any class, to any demon race. The process itself seemed dragging enough with the collision of two souls in one body, both grappling for the overall control. However, over time, soul fusion allows both souls to merge—to become one personality.

One person.

At least, those were the scientific words entailed that reached her knowledge, but Lan would be lying to say that the unknown psychological effects do not stir her fright.

This is the only time Lan had heard of one to actually undergo through that process—and _live_.

A human demon.

Pulling her out of another trance, Yusuke's voice suddenly drifted along with the wind. A caress of a whisper that was riddled with that same tenderness Lan only knew occurs when he dwells on about a certain someone.

"Keiko."

A glance was shot towards his profile, catching surprise evident in those chocolate eyes. Then shifting her focus, Lan caught sight of a young girl who appears to be around the same age as the detective. Even by a distance, Lan could easily scan her features and she drank them in out of sheer curiosity, finally able to put a face to the name that evokes unusual emotions within Yusuke.

Lan gave a twitch of her lip as she paused, letting Yusuke continue forward as she observed from behind.

This Keiko was, by all means, beautiful. A modest kind of beauty—humble yet striking with her mousy brown locks and eyes a shade softer than Yusuke's. The human girl appeared far too petite before Lan's gaze that the passing wind gave the former a fragile glow. But judging from Yusuke's frequent stories about how Keiko would single-handedly bring him down his throne every time, Lan knew not to underestimate her.

A spitfire with the perfect façade of innocence, and there she was walking towards their direction, seemingly unknowing of their presence. Yet.

The thought brought a smile to Lan's lips, silently stepping out of the way just as the girl's eyes lifted, simultaneously meeting the wide grin and joyous eyes of Urameshi Yusuke with her own wide-eyed shock.

He surely looked terrible to her eyes, a brazen mix of bruises and fading scars with dirty hair.

It didn't deter his smile, however. Nor hers.

"Yusuke!" She cried out.

"Hey." Advancing forward, Yusuke abruptly—briefly managing to swallow his irked shock—noted Lan's sudden disappearance. Leaving not a warning nor any form of goodbye.

To Keiko, it appears as if he arrived alone as she ran towards him, attacking with a hug that belittles her overwhelming concern for him.

"You're back," tightening her embrace, Keiko didn't fight her smile as the weight on her shoulders caused by his absence eased away. "You're really back!"

"Yeah," he accepted the greeting from his childhood friend with nothing but a wince. "I'm home."

Chancing a glance towards his apartment building over Keiko's shoulder, he let out a smirk as his assumptions were proven correct.

There, perched on the tall, wired fence of his apartment's rooftop and staring down at them, was Lan.

Yusuke didn't resist the grin, eyes light with the hopeful encounters in the future. She, in return, nodded in promise.

"See ya."

Keiko swiveled her head to follow the directions of Yusuke's gaze, seeing nothing but the roof to his home and puffs of traveling clouds.

"Who are you talking to?"

* * *

For the rest of the day, Lan dawdled on her way back to the temple, spontaneously taking turns and cuts between alleyways or hops from roof to roof. A method to simply kill time whilst drinking in whatever scenery before her eyes. She never really cared whether it be a mundane store or an empty park with silent shrubs and flowers, she just simply took her time—her mind replaying the interaction between Yusuke and the human girl.

Keiko. A name of joy.

By the way she witnessed the girl's face lit up the moment her eyes caught Yusuke's—a swift transition from sad to overwhelming happiness—the name fits.

It was curiosity at its work when Lan lingered by the shadows of the roof after the girl swiveled her head around to follow Yusuke's gaze, which was directed at her own.

She flickered out of sight.

After the detective had easily dropped the subject about his vision, the two proceeded to talk with gusto, as if the one month of separation didn't occur. No tension, no awkward pauses. They merely talked—a combination of relieved shouts and tearful laughter from Keiko along with that fond teasing from Yusuke. The girl had ushered the detective back towards his home, eyes darting to and fro with each bruise etched on his skin. Even by the distance (relying most on the wobbling and pitched tone in her voice, really), Lan could tell the girl was near to tears as she gushed at the injuries Yusuke wore. It also didn't help that the imbecile was damn proud of it, despite the little winces and hisses he let out from time to time.

It was all Lan needed to see.

Thus, with a shake of her head, she left, leaving the girl to expertly cater to Yusuke. He earned it.

But that wasn't the exact reason why she lingered.

Lan wanted to see the truth, and what she saw was all that it takes to prove her initial impression the second Yusuke mentioned Keiko.

She is important to him.

Distracted, Lan couldn't help but compare the pair with Toguro and Genkai. Guilty as she was, she couldn't stop her thoughts. Toguro and Genkai had taught her most of these intimate matters (mostly by sheer observation), and everything new she could see was compared with anything the unbeatable duo did or said to her. It is because of that that she could easily pinpoint differences between their relationship, and that of Yusuke and Keiko's.

Lan understood the age difference. The two were only fourteen, whilst Genkai and Toguro were in their mid-twenties when she met them. It was no surprise why both pairs differ so greatly.

All she can't understand was _why_ the detective denies the obvious.

Shrugging the thought off, Lan decided to not meddle with his decisions.

He has no say about her life, thus it would only be fair that she has no say in his.

The sound of flapping wings pulled Lan out of her thoughts and she craned her neck, catching the sight of a bird swiftly soar towards the lush of leaves on a tree. The meek caw urged her to smile, but with the avian shaking her out of her thoughts, awareness began to seep in.

With a start, Lan finally noticed her surroundings. How she got here, she didn't know. More often than not, her wayward thoughts were what always pulled her to take whichever direction on a whim. Foolish maybe, but she had gotten accustomed on the fact that no one bothered her for fifty years—years of which were all spent with little to no one to converse with.

She should go back home now.

Sighing through her nose, Lan turned towards the building before her, noting the open gate and the gigantic clock situated in the very middle of the property with its long hands running with time. It was nearly five in the evening according to the clock, but upon recognizing the building's structure rather than the time, Lan figured it was a school. The structure was very similar to those numerous buildings she saw that had students milling within.

In the next two seconds, Lan recalled the name Yusuke said to be his school.

Sarayashiki Junior High School.

 _'Could it be?'_ Piqued, Lan turned towards the bronze plaque that shone with the school's engraved name—only to find that it was wrong.

"Meiou," she read.

Frowning at her wrong assumption, Lan inwardly shushed her small disappointment. It would've been too good of a coincidence if this was the detective's school, especially if she wasn't paying attention as to where she was going. Scenarios of her dropping by without warning filtered her mind and her frown lifted into a small smile. His reactions were always amusing and predictive.

She'll see to it next time.

Seeing that it was the wrong school (and entertained with her current musing), Lan turned on her heel to begin her journey back to the temple. The streets around her were nearly empty at this time of hour, and the school seemed to be devoid of students. If not, there's little of them now since the entrance was lacking any person.

With no witnesses, Lan could jump to the roofs with no worries.

Yet she hadn't even taken three steps when the sudden shift in the air called to her.

Out of pure reflex, she felt the familiar grip of apprehension seize her limbs—her senses straining harder as the rhythm of footfalls reached her keen ears. Slow and even in pace, almost light, without the heavy stomping nor the lazy dragging of a mere person.

If that wasn't questionable enough, what drove caution towards Lan was the scent that followed.

Her nose wrinkled.

A garden. The scent resembled a garden. Strong and heavy, yet comforting—tingling with all the flowers in the mix. Lan could feel her head growing heavy and drunk with the luring aroma of freshly cut grass, flavored with the subtle scents of dew on leaves after a rain. There was even a whiff of some wild intoxicating plants of all kind—some mild, others somewhat begging to be noticed.

She was no expert when it comes to greenery, but the overall outcome of the various combination washed over her like calming liquid; soothing and fresh.

Yet she couldn't deny the scent that stood out most.

Roses.

Dangerous roses.

As soon as she was able to notice her horrifying reaction, Lan mentally slapped herself and locked her joints, pushing whatever effect the scent wrapped around her away with a small shake of her head.

This was beyond normal.

Beyond a human.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Biting back her tongue, mostly from the strange reaction she was having, Lan refused to answer. Her only allowance in addressing the person was by placing one foot back, turning slowly on her heels to face the entrance to the school once more.

And when she did, all the air rushed out of her lungs in one breath.

 **x**

 _A pair of red ears were what caught her attention first, long and perked straight in attention, stained with the strands of white fur similar to the bushy tail wagging behind. The ears flattened, hiding beneath a mop of equally red hair. Short and choppy._

 _Then, she stared into those eyes. Jade eyes that usually brimmed with mischief—but now darkened with resolve._

 _Fingers curled around the bars separating them._

 _"Take me with you, Lan."_

 **x**

"Miss?"

Clamping her mouth shut tight and swallowing back the rock in her throat, Lan brought herself back to reality in a snap, shuffling on her feet to properly face the stranger. Truthfully, she didn't want to look, but she needed something to hide the small trembles that plagued her hands and knees.

A sign of weakness—she needed to get rid of any sign of weakness.

Discretely sucking in a huge gulp of air through her nose—ignoring the overwhelming scent as she did so, Lan finally pushed the memory behind.

The illusion faded.

The ears dissolved and the hair remained vibrant and beautiful, only longer—an untamed mane instead of the short, choppy style in her head. The eyes eased into a darker tone, as deep and green as a forest goes rather than the twinkling jade from her memory. And lastly, the figure she saw in her mind grew taller; lean and firm with broader shoulders instead of the short stature she could remember.

It suddenly became obvious to Lan that this person was a 'he' rather than a 'she', clad in what she assumed was the school's required uniform with a messenger bag in hand.

Lan watched as the boy's eyes widened by a fraction at her appearance, the welcoming smile on his lips faltering to a slight grimace. She watched as he grew somewhat sheepish, shifting his weight on one foot to another as he regarded her foreign presence.

Donned in a qipao in a dark shade of blue, the boy seemed to deflate a tad, looking as if he was clutching for a lengthy patience deep within him.

"A foreigner. Just my luck."

Lan had to blink when she heard him mumble those words, brows pinching in confusion.

"Can you understand Japanese?" He asked, out loud this time, the smile resuming its place back on his lips.

Lan resisted the urge to snort in laughter, tongue poised to answer with a sharp reply when an idea popped in her head.

She remained mute.

"Even just a little?" The boy continued to ask, slow and dragging. A tone suitable only for a child. It irked her, but Lan tolerated. The amusement won out, to be honest, but she did not trust this person with a scent that nearly bewitched her. And she would rather cloak her abnormal pause from her earlier shock with unawareness.

With that, Lan stayed silent. Instead, she blinked owlishly at him, tilting her head to the side for good measure along with the twitch of a scowl. To him, she appeared nothing but a clueless foreigner who knew nothing of his native language.

The boy seemed to pause, long enough for Lan to wonder why a demon is wearing a uniform designed for human students. Acting and talking like one.

She was no fool. Because behind his individual scent lay the common scent of a fox.

 _'Just like her,'_ Lan thought with a frown.

Her thoughts were hindered when the boy spoke once more. This time assuming fluent English, slightly heavy with his accent, but understandable enough.

Now, her travels had her exposed to various languages. Most of the Asian countries can, in fact, speak the common language of English. India and Philippines, for that matter, were quite good. The accents vary, but Lan had picked up a few from meaningless conversations here and there along with eavesdropping. Though she did remember meeting an Australian demon when she was in Aomori. Why he was lurking about in a country not of his own, she had no idea. But he did teach her a thing or two. Heavy with his accent, he did, but she learned.

"Can you understand English?"

Resuming her ditzy foreigner act, Lan faked the recognition in her eyes, lips turning into a relieved smile while resuming the air as well.

Purposely thickening her accent, Lan proceeded to speak in the same language, staggering and awkward compared to his.

"Yes," she nodded, pulling a bashful grin to cover the snickering smirk begging to be shown. "I was waiting for friend. This school wrong though."

Nodding at her answer, the boy took a step closer, the smile on his lips thinning a smidge. In return, Lan managed to halt herself from taking a step back, nose wrinkling at the scent he emitted. It made her want to sigh at its strength, and that alone scared her.

She did notice that his smile seemed genuine now, compared to the compulsory one he pulled a while ago.

The boy proceeded to speak, and she could practically taste the relief in his voice when he found a way to communicate with her. For a quick moment, guilt bit her, until his scent wafted to her eager nostrils once more.

"I see. Do you need any help around?"

Lan shook her head, unable to stop her hands from flying out to stop him from coming closer. "No need. I'm staying near this area. I can manage."

"Are you sure?"

At her nod, the boy relented. "Well then, I'll leave you to it. Perhaps we shall meet again. . .?"

"Lan." Lips twitching at the slip, Lan couldn't deny the urge to bash her head. What was she thinking? Easily handing over her name to a stranger?

"Lan," the boy repeated, testing her name on his tongue. Then with another smile of his, he offered his hand.

"My name is Minamono Shuichi."

Eyeing the offered hand with concealed caution, Lan couldn't find a way to bring herself out of the situation. It was odd how her stomach clenched at the thought of touching this stranger. A demon beneath this human front. Warning bells rang loud and clear in her mind and his scent was unhelpful—it was too sweet, too coaxing, too luring.

It made her want to quiver with something unknown.

Still, Lan didn't know how to decline without being suspicious. It was just a simple handshake.

She could do it.

Clasping the hand with her own, Lan refused to drop eye contact. Refused to acknowledge the strength behind his grip. Refused to shake under the strange, calloused touch of his larger hand.

She refused.

Lan hid it all with a small smile. "Nice to meet you."

* * *

 **:)**

 **Thank you so much for all your reviews, favorites and alerts, everyone! Truly, I'm honored :)**

 **Again, I apologize for the late update. Also, Kurama finally makes an appearance! I cut their first encounter, though. The rest will be revealed next chapter, and I assure you, Kurama will bite.**

 **Flashbacks at the beginning of a chapter will occur often.**

 **Dagdoth Fliesh \- Thank you! And I'm glad you like Lan's character :)**

 **Sidako \- ahahaha yes, I agree. Animes are always educational when it comes to the matter of life**

 **kerlytops - Thank you so much!**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"HOLY SHINE"_ by Daisy X Daisy**


	7. Chapter 5

**a/n: I apologize for the late update. . . I haven't updated for nearly three months and that's quite a shame. Forgive me XD**

 **warning : PTSD**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own YYH aside from Lan and other OCs**

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **f|i|v|e**

* * *

 **KURAMA** had tightened his grip a little too late.

The eased smile aimed towards him charred foreboding suspicions that rung warning bells into the forefront of his brain, coupled with that air of absolute innocence draped over keen eyes was what sealed his penchant to remain overly cautious. Wary.

His eyes dimmed, thick lashes slanting just enough to intimidate. A subtlety unlike any other, and yet, this woman saw the change coming and slipped her hand free from his grip like melted butter before he could even tighten his hold—a hold not meant to crush, merely to corner.

Surprisingly, she didn't seem to be afraid. Far from the picture of roiling nerves even when his eyes darkened further and his smile became an effortless front.

No, this woman remained cool and composed even as her façade dropped, the ditzy curl on her lips easing into a neutral line and owlish eyes settled—akin to the water of a river uncharacteristically stilling.

Despite the suspicion twisting his gut, Kurama found himself begrudgingly approving this stranger's steady resolve to stand before him without neither cowering or spouting arrogant promises. Instead, she was wisely leveling herself into his play to create her own rule in the midst of the game.

 _'Clever.'_

"Now, tell me," Kurama took a step back. "Who are you, really? I know that you can understand me, your eyes are too intelligent not too."

Brows quirking at the odd compliment, Lan dropped her act. Face mirroring his in a flawless transition, minus the ominous glint. A blank canvas.

"Keen. I expected no less from a fox." Her casual shrug must have stunned him for a moment, if the way his glare tapered even more wasn't any indication. It unnerved her, his look. Those daunting eyes were slowly crumbling a tiny portion of her impromptu bravado, to her chagrin. Piece by piece, he sought for every crevice he could detect to unravel.

It was a look that felt far too familiar to her liking, with the way those emerald eyes clouded with a dangerous gleam yet remained utterly cautious. A calculative look; an easy assurance to keep him in the advantage. One that foxes seem to share, she mused.

But Lan would be in denial if she says the intensity was not any different.

In any case, his eyes hold a cunning strength that is superior to any other of his kind. Not that she'd crossed upon many foxes, but the air was just _there._ A clear warning that he is not someone to be trifled with.

Lan let her gaze flick sharply in thought.

This situation had become troublesome and certainly unneeded. Unwanted too. Accusations towards her were highly unnecessary, especially when she knew that his mind is sewing thoughts of possibilities as to what might lead her presence here, quickly followed by scenarios to eliminate her if he deemed those reasons as a threat.

Foxes tend to pull information out of anyone's tongue.

Aggravation pinched her jaw to lock. She would definitely prefer it if he would focus his gaze elsewhere. _'I just wanted to go home.'_

"Relax, fox." Lan shadowed a smirk. "I have no business with you."

Her own pride gnawed at her, knowing that she could challenge this strange human-demon boy. However, the truth was the opposite. She knew that in her current state that she couldn't. Either way, she'd rather not go against a fox's astute ability.

At her words, Kurama begged to differ, recalling the brief transition of emotions in her eyes when she first laid eyes on his person. Shock, disbelief, recognition, then disappointment—all melting into an impeccable blank mask in the end that, if it weren't for his observant nature, he would've missed it.

Any human would've believed her tale, a foreigner who could not understand the native language in this country. The first part was obviously true, judging by the minuscule difference between her features and the natives around here, but the second was laughable. Ludicrous.

Again, her eyes showed far too much intellect to play as the fool.

"I didn't mention that you have." Kurama tilted his head in confusion when he sensed no form of youki–even just a meager ounce–emitting from the woman. It's either that she's a master of stealth, or she's a weakling. The former, most likely. Another observation that proved her lack of innocence.

Common demons whose sole purpose was to expand their territories in the human world rely on boasting their youki. Those who do not show theirs could evoke endless possibilities with limitless subterfuge.

Kurama wasn't about to take his chances.

The woman tipped her chin. "I did not need to ask to know what you're thinking."

Kurama arched a brow, limbs still poised and face a marbled steel. He watched the woman eye his school over his shoulder, lips twitching as a crease faintly appeared between her brows. The actions were subtle, but there. Utterly clear before his watch.

"Anyone who pretends to be someone they're not has ulterior motives."

Her eyes fell to meet his, glancing down to the tip of his polished shoes, then back up again.

"Hypocrite, aren't we."

He stayed silent.

Seemingly satisfied, Lan turned to leave, careful not to seem too eager without lingering too much.

This fox could take her down at her current strength; a nagging irk at her usually quiet pride, but she dutifully squished it. She didn't want to stay longer to give this anomaly a chance to corner her further, especially when her words seemed to strike a mild chord somewhere within. She'd tip the scale and that's that, no need for more trouble.

"Wait."

Ultimately, it was the gentle knife weaved within the velvet of his tone that made her pause in her step. Lan looked over her shoulder, a tired grimace set on her face as she began to feel weary of his grating presence with each second that passes. But when she looked back, he wasn't there.

She barely felt the cold panic squeeze her limbs when suddenly— _suddenly_ —he was there again. As a dreadful warmth.

Behind her.

His arm circled around her from behind with the inside of his elbow grazing her right shoulder, and it was then that Lan felt warm fingers touch the skin of her neck, skimming the generous dip between her collar bone. It was a touch that sent startling electricity that surged upon contact, strengthened by the arrant gush of his scent suddenly engulfing her from every direction, inside and out.

Her breath hitched.

The fault was the collar of her qipao. The first button was askew—undone. Probably during her bouts of leaping from roof to roof when it gave under her unnatural movements. The state of which left her jugular notch exposed to his touch, and to his eyes.

And the cord to her ring unsheltered.

"That's not yours." Her hand reached out in reflex, grasping his wrist before he could even tug the cord out to reveal the curious shine beneath her collar. In one swift movement, Lan twisted around, putting the redhead back in her field of vision and herself out of his cage, fingers still locked around his wrist. Once she had that achieved, her eyes narrowed in warning, trying (almost pathetically failing) to chomp down the shudders that started to wreck her body.

It was foolish of her— _careless_ of her to neglect the ring.

And yet, she knew better than to resort violently. That would be answering to the fox's bait and _again_ , she'd rather not play with trouble. She'd settle enough with a warning.

"Be it wise to avert your attention elsewhere, fox." Her tightening grip on his wrist spoke the unsaid; _'I'll ignore this only once.'_

Frowning, Kurama was startled at the turn of events, startled by the fierce deterrent her eyes strongly conveyed. Accidentally, he had _her_ cornered now when earlier, her suspiciously calm nature had _him_ cornered into paranoia. Not that he was at the wrong—she had deliberately tried to hide her identity with an inane act.

However, hypocrisy begged to differ, he realized. As her previous observation easily stated, he has been living with a life half twisted in deceit.

He has his reasons, perhaps this woman has too.

Now normally, letting go a potential threat was not one of Kurama's ideal actions, especially since his recent exposure to the Spirit World around a month ago alerted his presence to many other demons lurking within this realm. His mother's life may be saved, but her safety is one still to question. Probably would remain so as long as he lives, and that's not a responsibility he would shirk away from.

Any threat should be dealt with.

Yet looking into this stranger's eyes, Kurama felt himself falter. Uncharacteristically so.

In those limpid blues, he saw fear, dominant and sneering. He saw anxiety, electric and pulsing. He saw anger, mild and strained by repressing her urge to retaliate.

He saw desperation. A need to flee.

Those kinds of individuals were cowards in his book, but Kurama didn't really care about knowing this woman's story. Curious, perhaps, but a taxing marvel. All he cared about was if she was being honest.

And the answer was clear in her eyes.

' _She speaks the truth_ , _'_ Kurama thought. No lie. No ulterior motives. Nothing but oceanic blue to his gaze. Kurama found himself dwelling into her strangely beguile eyes, caving beneath her small attempt as a warning. Arguably, he could have easily pulled his wrist out of her grasp as simple as yawning, but he didn't.

Kurama stowed away whatever he could, boring deep into her gaze in an effort to detect a lie. A flinch. A hint of deception. He was hesitant to admit that there was none, and it was simply because of that did he find this situation confusing at best.

Demons are creatures filled with secrets; eyes untrusting nor relenting, a never-ending cycle of agendas beneath agendas.

But not her. Her eyes were clean. Honest—almost raw. A perturbing difference.

He had never come across a demon like her before, so overtly clear with the emotions crossing her features. Downplayed, but clear.

"I see," content with what he found, Kurama gently tugged his wrist out her grasp and she let go without any hesitation once she sensed his retreat, still eyeing the intent in his eyes.

He thought her glare to be brave when she's still anxious.

"I apologize for my behavior," he attempted, watching as the girl fix her collar, hiding the cord and the strange shine he saw earlier. Copper and round—small, but the glimpse wasn't enough for him to deduce what it was.

"Apology accepted." She smiled, a thin, uneasy action that Kurama nonetheless returned.

For a moment, neither said a word, both dancing in the fine line of queasiness—a smidgeon of begrudging trust to hold onto either's word the only thing soothing their paranoia.

Neither could avert their stare.

Kurama inclined his head in thought. For a demon, there was something peculiarly _human_ about her.

It was in that peak of clarity—an air of near wonder—when their moment was rudely interrupted.

"Shuichi!"

"Shuichi-kun!"

"Minamino-san!"

Two heads turned as a small group of four girls skipped out from the entrance, each clutching their messenger bags as they run towards the redhead.

Akin to a chiming drop of a pin, Lan felt her suspicions evaporate as incredulity arched her brows at the overzealous behaviors.

Stepping aside since she was clearly blocking the girls' from the redhead, Lan couldn't find herself to process this one properly.

 _'Why are they happy to see him?'_

She heard the redhead sigh through his nose, almost heavy with restraint. Of what, she didn't know, but Lan almost felt sympathetic. Almost.

As soon as they got near, the girls' broad grins dropped at the sight of Lan.

"Who is this?" One of the girls asked, urging a polite smile. Though she could not detain the disappointment from her tone. Lan saw how the sentiment was shared by the other three, judging by the scowls nipping their faces.

Though confused, Lan took that as her cue (and opportunity) to bid farewell.

"Just an old acquaintance passing," she smiled, small and polite and much more genuine than the other girls. "I apologize for the disturbance. I'll be going now."

Turning towards the fox once more, Lan inwardly frowned, seeing a look she could not define visible in those eyes. It wasn't threatening, that much was certain, but it became an aberration for her.

One that sent currents to crawl all over her arms and a shiver down her spine.

"I'll see you soon, Shuichi."

A lie. She has no intentions of meeting him again, but appearances must be kept before the humans. Besides, he knew the truth, and she was sure that he has no intentions of meeting again either.

It was only when she went on to leave, already putting a distance between them, did Kurama muttered his own farewell beneath his breath.

Subtly—

"I'll see you."

—the ghost of her touch still tingled around his wrist.

* * *

The garbled static of the television echoed within the near-empty room, loud and crawling to the ears. Though the volume had been smothered low, Genkai still wrinkled her nose at the scratchy noise, pinning the blame for obscured signal and no annoying brats yapping around to drown away the static. The sun has barely surrendered its throne to the moon, not even a full day yet since Lan sent the detective home.

But there she was, actually wondering what to do at the suddenly quiet environment.

"Hm." With all the grace in her limbs despite her age, Genkai pushed herself to a stand from her seat before the television, turned the appliance off, then set off to fetch her pipe. Lan would arrive late at night, bordering towards dawn most likely, and that gave Genkai enough slot to smoke her pipe by the veranda.

The polished box holding her pipe was in her quarters, already cleaned and waiting for her next puff. But once that was retrieved, Genkai frowned.

"Matches. . ." They weren't beside her pipe.

It didn't need to be said who the culprit was.

Minutes later, Genkai found the matches beneath the sink, behind a cluster of old boxes, topped by a ratty rag. With the temple devoid of any other presence, Genkai saw no reason to hold in her barking laugh.

"Lan, you idiot."

The demoness would never throw it away, but Genkai very well knew that her friend would hide it everywhere to keep the pinkette looking.

Just like fifty years ago.

Accomplished with her search, Genkai padded quietly towards the veranda, sighing blissfully through her nose at the thought of a complete repose after a month of training the dimwit. A touch of a smile teased her lips once she sat on her spot, legs dangling as the blades of grass in her yard danced with the wind, inviting even the strands of her hair into the tempo.

It was a perfect picture of peace. Serene.

Briefly, she wondered how many havens like this Lan had seen in her travels. Tranquil areas where no man has ever had the grace to view. Genkai hasn't found the opportunity yet to broach the topic of her friend's travels but, now that they're left to their privacy, talking to the demoness would come easy now. Almost a month has blown by and she can finally speak to Lan freely, perhaps even compare her own journey with the demoness.

After all, Genkai had done her fair share of travels when she was younger, but never as extensive as Lan's, no doubt.

' _It would be wise to see how far she's grown,'_ with a curious hum, Genkai took a drag from her pipe.

Her mind's eye took her back to the days of her youth, when Lan swept in and became the remaining constant from her past. The demoness used to be a ticking timebomb, a waiting disaster. Though technically, Genkai supposed that she still is, just not in the same manner as before. Interacting with the Lan before almost felt like talking to a clueless child. Curiously enough, Lan had no talent in juggling, knowing, or controlling her own emotions and yet, empathy came naturally to her.

At first, it baffled Genkai more than she cared to admit.

How can someone understand a concept when they themselves _can't_ understand the said concept.

She took another drag of her pipe.

Lan mentioned before that it must be her race's influence. Rams were sentimental by nature, she said, and were overly protective of their herd. Genkai could still recall the detached air the demoness spoke in when describing her kind, as if she felt none of the ties her race stood so proudly of.

When Lan left all those years ago, Genkai soon went into a journey herself to find out more about the former's situation. She trained, extensively so, honing in her Spirit Wave technique whilst inventing other ways to her craft—minor techniques and moves that were inspired by Lan herself because, if there was anything during the Dark Tournament that Genkai recalls openly, it was those matches Lan had.

There had been a huge speculation as to why an individual in their team could compete with not even a whiff of energy. However, all their doubts were proven wrong when Lan had continuously outwitted her opponents and, in an outstanding turn of events one time, used her enemies' youki against them.

Genkai used them all to create her other tricks then. Still, her objective was certain. Always.

But in the end, it was a fruitless escapade.

Not only did Genkai find the only information about rams were hearsay, but there was no definite text and information about the ring Lan carries either.

"The Rings of Ji Dianji," Genkai mumbled in thought, a hint of suppressed fury pressing on the tip of her tongue.

All the other psychics she'd crossed path with could only offer words of caution.

All the other demons she'd cross paths with could only falter in fear at the mention.

There was nothing.

"You're smoking again."

Stifling her shock with a quirk of her brow, Genkai lowered her pipe, tapping the ashes to fall on the bed of grass beneath the veranda.

Willing away the tension, she inclined her head as a greeting. "You're back early."

A pause, then footsteps padded towards their rooms. Genkai watched from the corner of her eyes as Lan strolled down the hall, not even sparing the pinkette any more words as she sped away.

Genkai frowned at the obvious strain Lan carries on her shoulders. "Did something happen?"

Lan paused just before she turned on a corner.

"Nothing."

"You can't lie to me."

"Then I will tell you some other time."

"Hm," simply returning her gaze back to her yard, Genkai raised the pipe back to her lips. "I'll just be smoking here if you need me."

Genkai could only hear the smile on her voice when she answered.

"As always."

* * *

"He's back, mom! Yusuke's back!"

At any other time, Keiko would've felt incredulous at hearing herself be like this; reduced to bouncy toes and a giggly voice as she merrily recalled today's surprise.

"The two of us are planning to hang out tomorrow with Kuwabara-kun just to catch up. Is it alright if I'll come home a little late?"

She was begging now, and that itself was unheard of from her. And yet, for some reason, it didn't matter. All that matters was that the boy with that silly, brazen grin was well and back. Unruly and a bit battered for wear—but back.

Back here with her.

Trying to stifle the bounce on the balls of her feet was a vain attempt, really. The action merely lifted the corners of her mother's lips in amusement, probably eyeing the color on her cheeks. Keiko only beamed further, nonplussed.

 _'Yusuke's back!'_

No embarrassment nor teasing would pull her down from her high. Yusuke disappeared for a month and three days, and now he's back. He's not gone.

Not dead, nor waiting to be revived. No.

He's here.

Keiko didn't plan on being picky by playing with ire, especially when she saw the state he came back in.

Whatever gruel hell Yusuke went through in a month—whatever kind of 'camping' he said it was, Keiko aimed to find out. Soon. A story for another time. But first, he needed to relax. _They_ needed to relax. No mentions of recent deaths and one-month disappearances for now, and on her part, there would no school nor educational related topics to be divulged.

Keiko just wanted to be with him for now.

Stashing away the dishes after wiping them clean, Keiko glanced over her shoulders, grinning at her humming mother who was polishing the tables after a day of stains and spilled sauce.

"So can I?"

Her mother didn't even hesitate, a twist of a smile on her lips as she glanced meaningfully at her daughter. "Sure, if your father's all right with it."

Her father had agreed, unable to utter any words of dismissal against those doe eyes. Then again, he had long since considered Yusuke as his surrogate son, often a meddlesome thought, but now filled Keiko with relief.

So, it was no wonder that the very next day, Keiko had dragged the two boys in question as soon as school ended, merrily leading the way with a firm but gentle tug on the crook of their elbows.

As usual, there was a slouch in Yusuke's posture, perhaps even more pronounced and stiff as his joints dragged his lead body. A twinge of protest with every other step he took. Even then, Keiko mused that he appeared better for wear compared to his befouled exterior yesterday, with his hair sleek with the shine of a gel to compliment his sharp features; a haughty frown drooped the corner of his lips low, complemented by a pinch of aggravation in his eyes as per usual.

Keiko smiled for what must've been the millionth time.

He was back to his distinctive 'bad boy' look and it gave a sense of normality, as if nothing had changed—that he didn't leave and he didn't just die three months or so ago.

The only hint he gave that he was even enjoying this day was that he remained hovering by her side instead of being three steps ahead or behind. Keiko felt herself grin again before even knowing it.

Then as the cherry on top, the new addition to their duo was equally as pleasing.

Kuwabara Kazuma was the epitome of what most would call: a breath of fresh air. A person whose very presence can soothe the storm in your soul with a simple quirk of his trademark grin—wide and stretching from ear to ear, yet crooked in a sheepish manner. A person whose warmth is incomparable.

In truth, Keiko didn't expect that from Yusuke's number one rival (or so the ginger proclaimed). The boy was intimidating for sure with his impressive towering height and angled steel grey eyes. Many did cower before his gaze, though not unlike the way they shrink away from Yusuke, but the point was that they did hold a sliver of fear at the mention of Kuwabara too.

Keiko discovered that he was very much like Yusuke in that aspect.

Since Yusuke's death and resurrection, there has been an awareness between her and the ginger, one that unspokenly sparked a kinship since—as much as they would have it or not—they're tied by being bonded to Yusuke. Now, Kuwabara was similar to the latter: misunderstood and layered. It wasn't difficult to discern as to why Yusuke became quite attached to Kuwabara, with endless similarities and zany differences to balance their status quo.

The ginger was easy-going, humorous, chivalrous and honorable to a fault. A whole bubble of warm personality that fits Yusuke's askew character.

Keiko felt honored to have a friend like Kuwabara and glad for Yusuke to have him.

"Three chocolate milkshakes, please!"

The bench offered a place for the two boys to relax, leaving Keiko to purchase the beverages from a stall.

Her smile had yet to drop an inch since this morning, radiant even beneath the sun as she conversed with the elderly salesman for the milkshakes. Yusuke was at least glad to see her happy after worrying so much for him yesterday. She'd always make a point to talk to people like her father, those who handled stalls with diligence, and he buried his chuckle with a smirk instead.

It's good that she's happy.

"So," releasing a tired sigh, Yusuke draped himself silly on the bench beside Kuwabara. "You're saying your arm is fully recovered?"

"What do you think?" If Kuwabara's blatant and cheerful display of pumping his now healed arm up in the air wasn't any indication to his complete recovery, then a person would have been robbed of their sight.

Nevertheless, Yusuke couldn't resist the amused smile from appearing, grabbing just enough restraint to stop himself from shaking his head.

"You should've seen the doctor's face, all confused and shocked!" Kuwabara chuckled. "In fact, my arm's stronger than before, it's insane!"

Yusuke didn't really see the humor when Kuwabara howled at his quirk. Recalling the time he saw the ginger being held like a ragdoll, his arm bent like crushed toothpick by that Randou bastard. . .

He released a minuscule shudder.

Nope. Yusuke could never find humor in it, yet he spared a small chuckle for Kuwabara, mostly just amused at his child-like enthusiasm.

"But to be honest," Kuwabara sobered. "I owe it to Genkai for healing me beforehand. If it wasn't for her, my arm wouldn't be as strong."

Rolling his shoulders, the ginger couldn't defy the smug grin from forming. His arm was more than healed and he was brimming with more strength compared to his old self—sizzling and feeding his natural attachment to his spiritual senses.

"Wanna try it out?" He chanced a smirk.

Under any other circumstances, Yusuke would have jumped at the call of a challenge, though he wasn't the least at all surprised when the expected reaction didn't bloom. There was a twinge, but the exhausted whine of his still—barely, but still—aching muscles overruled the desire.

His body just wasn't enthusiastic in jumping into action so soon (though his sleep last night went undisturbed, add the fact that he skipped P.E earlier in favor of snoozing by the rooftop). Then there was also the glaring fact that he owed Keiko with his blatant secrecy and sudden disappearance for a month. He'd have to deal with her first to evade her infamous temper before he can cause any ruckus. That and his concern towards Kuwabara upped against his response to a promising fight.

Although analyzing it now, the detective doubted that any ordinary fights would be as promising after his training. Genkai had been a menace in pushing past his limits—pushing past the brink of exhaustion and welcomed unconsciousness. The ghoul had a habit of throwing blasts of reiki stronger than how much he could defend himself from. A cheat if he would say so himself.

Then there was Lan, who was quite a pesky sparrer—never straying on one spot for him to set his focus on. If he didn't know better, she was keen on playing him around (she was and he's in denial), never really putting enough strength as much as Genkai would to last the spar longer. Lan relied more on goading his pride, feeding insults that his ego would eat like a starving fire whilst throwing in phrases that he could never guess if they were sarcastic compliments, or complimenting sarcasm.

He could really taste her friendship with the hag during those times.

Frankly, Yusuke couldn't rebut her method of training. Lan's subtle ways had stretched his stamina to wondrous wonders and enabled him to think faster under certain circumstances, but if she grew bored (and that was inevitable), Yusuke would always end up stiff as a board or useless as jelly. It never failed to irritate him every time she'd suddenly press a single finger or two to immobilize his movements. Pressure points, she explained once.

He'll get her someday.

"Nah," Yusuke shook his head, ridding the memories of his training in his head. "Let's not push your luck yet, alright?"

"Fine." Kuwabara scoffed, though lacking any real scorn. He wasn't up to a fight too, either way; enjoying the peaceful air far too much to disrupt it. "How'd the training go, anyways?"

The quick transition was flawless. Yusuke looked like he swallowed something sour and bitter at once.

"Pure torture."

Kuwabara felt himself gulp.

Yusuke didn't waste any time delving into details as he finally allowed the memories pouring back in the forefront of his mind; recalling the times Genkai would exercise him to defend himself from her reiki blasts. His ears would still ring from time to time, no doubt still damaged from the numerous close proximities at the varying amount of power pushed in each blast (Kuwabara subconsciously mimicked Yusuke when he rubbed his right ear with a grimace). Then he explained the traumatic strain on his arms every time he would balance himself upside-down on one insanely thick and sharp spike with nothing but a speckled ball of his spirit energy. Which, he would have to hold for twelve hours straight (goosebumps clung along Kuwabara's arms at that story). Afterwards, Yusuke dwelled on other minor exercises.

The scorching fire-sitting meditation, the prickle, and discomfort when he was told to sleep on needles. Not to mention that he has to cook their breakfast every morning by the crack of dawn. . .

Yusuke counted them all with his fingers whilst relaying them to a pale Kuwabara.

All except the subject of Lan.

On the last second, Yusuke stopped himself from telling Kuwabara about Lan for numerous reasons. One being the stubborn bull in his head; embarrassed at being bested by a girl after being thoroughly roughed up in their spars and the shameful awkwardness he had under her presence at first before he got used to her.

Another reason would be the tight secrecy he knew his job entails. His mom and Keiko couldn't even know lest they find themselves in danger. The same would have to be applied to Kuwabara. Then again, it would be futile since the ginger was very much present during his assignment to capture Randou. That and the obvious skills Kuwabara openly shares regarding his reiki. A natural psychic, the hag once said when he aroused the subject about Kuwabara's arm during his first day as her disciple.

However, Yusuke supposed that the core reason as to why he hesitated was the utmost privacy Lan valued. Genkai is the only person she confides in, the only person whom she blindly trusts with her life. Yusuke could even recall the days when she deemed him like the plague, preferring to avoid him most—if not all the time. He didn't know how he managed it, but he was able to scratch a little of her defensive walls, stringing out smiles and a laugh here and there from her. Inwardly, Yusuke has to recognize the small ball of satisfaction whenever they sparred, no matter the constant outcome. He enjoyed that kind of practical training.

That was preferable compared to her initial blank demeanor.

In the end, Lan grew out of her enclosed bubble and allowed him to be a friend of the sort.

Yusuke would like to honor that, thus he said not a word about her name and let Kuwabara be unaware of her existence for the meantime.

 _'Looks like asking Botan is out of the question too.'_

"Stop it!" Kuwabara spat, biting his tongue in a futile effort to ignore the creeping shiver down his spine as Yusuke recalled his training experience. "I'm getting goosebumps just hearing about them."

Yusuke chuckled, fingering a scratch on his cheek. A tiny souvenir from his month of hell.

"Well, it was painful. But I've increased the variety of my attacks because of my training so, that helps."

Impressed, Kuwabara hummed, eyebrows arching high on his forehead. "Really? You don't look any different."

"You're stupid to base my prowess in appearance alone."

"Hey! Watch your mouth. I'm just starting to like your attitude, Urameshi. Let's see who has the better prowess between the two of us!"

Snickering at the similar words Lan had said to him a day ago, Yusuke couldn't resist the jibe he uttered next. "I dunno. If we're basing on appearances alone, then your dumb face practically sealed your fate."

"Real mature, Urameshi."

"Like you are."

"Still," Kuwabara bit back, staring at Yusuke with a tinge of amazement in his eyes. "I'd like to see—"

Kuwabara was unable to finish when Yusuke's hand flew to clamp itself tight on the ginger's mouth, muffling his words as Keiko—balancing a plastic tray of three chocolate milkshakes—approached them with a smile.

"Sorry for the wait," a small giggle tumbled past her mouth, dusting a rosy tint to her cheeks as she passed one milkshake to Kuwabara (who had slapped away the hand on his mouth with a glare) and the other to Yusuke.

"What was it that you two wanted to see?" She quizzed, holding onto her own milkshake after throwing the tray away in a nearby bin. Her eyes flickered between the two males in question.

"Well, uh. . ." Kuwabara babbled, tripping over his tongue as he sought for an excuse. At the corner of his eyes, he shared a glance of help with Yusuke. "It's nothing, really! Just, uhh. . ."

An idea lit a light bulb in Yusuke's mind. A lame one, yet he forced a wide grin on his face for an added effect.

"A movie!" He cried. "We wanted to see a movie! You know, I've been gone for a month and all, I don't even know what's showing." Yusuke chuckled at the same time Kuwabara echoed his statement.

"Yeah. . . a movie would be nice."

The ghoul was right about a lot of things, and she's right about this one too. Luck seemed to accompany him again this time as Keiko—blind and oblivious to their poor lie—perked at the suggestion.

"Let's go then!"

Yusuke didn't have enough time to relish in the relief when Keiko swiftly dragged them off towards the cinema, but he reasoned he wouldn't mind it all at the sight of Keiko being completely drenched in happiness.

He smiled inwardly to himself for at least giving her that.

However, he didn't know whether his trusted company—Lady Luck—had finally abandoned him when a churn in his stomach made him believe that this day would go downhill from their lovely mood so far. And it all began when he felt the familiar weight of eyes on the back of his head, following them all the way to the cinemas.

"Urameshi," came the mumble from Kuwabara not too soon later. "You feel that?"

Pursing his lips thin, Yusuke rolled his gaze to the side. "Yeah. I guess things are going to get a little messy here."

* * *

Meiou High, she found out to be, was a rather dull school.

Dreary. Monotonous.

Entirely nugatory.

Or perhaps it was because she had long since abandoned her interest towards any of the human education system.

Once, around ten years ago, Lan had been engrossed at the thought—fascinated by this elaborate system these humans have come up with to educate their younglings, but as soon as she observed the reality of it, she felt her interest plummet down into the very depths of the ocean. She could dismiss the blame to her restless feet, yet even then she wondered.

Students sit for hours in one room, in one seat, for _most_ of the day. They listen endlessly to their so-called professor drawl on and on, scribble information onto their notebooks, read their dry books—and for what?

Lan couldn't honestly comprehend how these people handle such tedious drills.

She saw no sense in any of their activities, and not even the appeal of their physical education could notch down the fact that they have to be tucked in on one corner for hours on end.

And yet there she was, back to watch their repetitive motions again with a different curiosity to feed.

A simple glance would've sufficed, yet she lingered out of sheer lazy wonder—quietly observing the bouts of interaction between students and teachers. Peers among peers engaged in harmless talks during their break, then return back to their positions once a primly dressed individual enters the room with an air of cocky authority.

The pattern was dull.

Dreary. Monotonous.

Entirely nugatory.

Lan scowled. In the end, her time was wasted and the only opinion she conjured within the half-hour she squandered was how utterly pink their uniform is. And when she left, her pique answered, there was barely any satisfaction.

Currently lounging on top of a tiled roof of a random three-story dwelling, Lan laid on her back, her head pillowed by her hair as she gazed at the stretch of the sky. The pale blue was a comfort after seeing pinks for so long and she sighed, relaxing her hands on the flat of her stomach.

' _I just have to go back.'_ Lan thought to herself, her mind a messy clutter of self-scolding.

She should've initiated her query to Genkai last night. Confess about her near exposure and her most peculiar reaction to this fox's scent. She should've done that.

But she didn't.

Genkai would probably have said something far more useful than having to return to the school the next morning, peering in from another building across just to satisfy the question mark hanging over that redheaded fellow. She had made sure to remain far from the range his senses would reach, and the lack of wind aided in hiding her scent.

Admittedly, it was one of the most unlikely scenarios wherein she'd make use of her sharper sight, even for a fox with an abnormally compelling scent and a face far too familiar for comfort. Still, it didn't abate her irritation.

She should've gone to Genkai. Talk to the pinkette properly and thoroughly after a month of toeing around their secret.

But the truth is, Lan still wasn't quite used to openly convey her thoughts. It was easy enough when facing Genkai, but even the pinkette had had months to hammer down her awkward fumblings to connect fifty years prior. Even then, Lan still preferred to mule them over instead of pouring out the words in her head to her old friend. Unless it was an absolute necessity, or if the psychic lost her patience and forced the words out of her tongue.

Breaking the silence was never an easy feat to achieve. Especially for her.

A growl rumbled deep in her chest, boiling her aggravation at what had transpired yesterday.

Parting with that boy, Shuichi, was a conflicting ordeal—his oddity being a reason enough to stand alone.

Surely, his scent must have gathered numerous attention from other demons before her. No human could ever harbor such floral scent as his, especially when she caught traces of demonic plants cloaking his skin as well. It didn't smell recent, nor was she familiar with demonic plants (or plants in general, really), but Lan knew enough. It was either that demonic botany was an occasional hobby of his, or judging by its old clung (she could barely catch the scent of what seems to be a Death Plant), the demonic energy infused was simply too strong that it left a marking scent.

Either way, Lan was just pathetically aware of how much of his scent clouded her thoughts right now. It stayed with her last night, plugging her nose with the smell of fresh grass, sweet nectars, and summer-hazed Ajisai—all of which were draped by that rosy tang.

She reasoned that it must be her abnormalities that have heightened his already attractive smell further, but it wasn't an excuse to the way she acted yesterday.

He hadn't fooled her. Nor had _she_ fooled him.

Releasing a quiet groan, Lan resisted the urge to run her hand pathetically down her face.

Going back to that school today was absurd, especially when she vowed to herself to never meet him again. And yet, she couldn't resist. Leaving yesterday only stirred restless thoughts and emotions within. Mostly due to the fact that her secret was nearly exposed. All because of her unkept collar.

And his eyes. . . his hair. . .

"Just who is that person?"

Without any conscious thoughts, Lan sought for the ring beneath her collar, fingers tracing the obvious lump beneath the material before drifting to ensure the lock of her frog buttons this time. The familiar weight of the ring resting cold on her skin eased the panic from taking hold of her mind, calming the intense fear that briefly possessed her being when the redhead traced his fingers on her exposed collar.

Leisure and thoughtful.

Intrigue yet dawdling.

He could've been merciless and snatched it before she could react.

He could've unleashed the very possibility she didn't want to happen.

She could've been exposed.

And it's all because of her carelessness.

That moment of vulnerability made Lan grit her teeth in silent seething. Aware that he could have snapped her neck into two. Aware that he could've snatched her possession if he so wished. In her state, he would be stronger—faster. Everything she is and more.

She felt his demonic energy sang beneath his fingertips.

Hers doesn't.

Thumping the back of her head on the roof (a lazy punishment that inflicted little pain), Lan forced her thoughts somewhere else.

A territory that's safe without the plea of green eyes boring into her own and those red strands weren't coated in metallic brown after the result of blood mingling.

A muddled voice, sounding too far away from her reach, rang loud in her ears. Creeping and creeping like maggots chewing on her brain as _t_ _he sound of neck snapping_ _—skulls caving_ _—flesh ripping and cleaving_ _—_ _debris crushing bodies upon bodies, big or small, headless or no._

 _They all piled together._

Lan immediately sat up to cradle her head.

 ** _Kill. Kill. Kill for me._**

Fingers burrowed beneath pale locks, nails clutching her scalp as she winced.

"Stop it."

 _Screams_ _—endless screams_ _—lips grotesquely pulled back to wail with their bleeding throats_ _—shrilling for a life they'll never have_ _—pleading. Crying. **Kill. Kill for me. Kill. Killkillkillkill.**_

Her fingers twitched.

 _The bodies were piling. Piling_ _—p_ _ilingpilingpiling_ _—and the blood_ _—spilling. Spilling_ _—spillingspillingspillingspilling_ _—_

"STOP!"

Knees bent and back bowed, Lan sheltered her head within the space, biting her tongue to swallow back the choked whimpers daring to spill. Her eyes were shut tight, and yet the visions were vibrant and vivid—rooted as the smell of a blood-soaked air invaded her lungs and the broken screams stabbed her eardrums.

Gone were the green eyes and red hair, replaced by blurred faces of all kinds. Broken and battered.

And then there was the scent of fire burning. Burning. Burning all over until the flames _licked her skin in hot drips—_

"Genkai!" Gasping in futile, Lan popped her eyes open and she shot up from her position to a stand. Tension riddled her muscles to tremble as if one pluck could break her in half. She gulped, licking her dry lips as she ran one hand pathetically down her face, her breathing ragged and heavy as she kept her hand there, palm pressed on her shut eyes in an effort to squish away the images.

"Think of Genkai." She gripped her fringe. "Breathe. Think of Genkai."

The memory of her friend covertly glancing over her shoulder last night dissolved away the nightmare fresh in the back of her lids, the smoke from the pinkette's pipe sweeping away the residue until—slowly—Lan managed to ground herself with Genkai's soothing presence, her warmth so cozy that Lan carried it no matter where she went.

The caramel shade of the pinkette's eyes was what made the demoness sag in relief and the peach scent—engraved and memorized so many times—overcome the putrid scent of blood.

"You'll be smoking there," Lan murmured as she pictured the psychic huddled in some corner of the veranda, shamelessly dragging her pipe to her lips. "Waiting for me. You'll be there. . ."

Seamlessly, the lucid picture was enough to pry away the nightmare's hold on her, a beacon within the murky darkness— _her_ murky darkness. Lan sluggishly removed the hand on her face, lips tugged into a long, disappointed frown.

It's been a month since she'd had an episode. A quaking one at that. Recently, she'd been able to hold the memories at bay, begrudgingly content with handling fleeting images that often jar her from daily activities. Nothing a good shake couldn't fix.

This time had nearly broken her into cold sweat.

Questions such as 'why' and 'why now' had long since lost its importance to Lan. She'd learn a long time ago that questioning what started her episodes was futile at best.

Genkai holds her grounded now. And that was enough.

Inhaling the air around her, Lan concentrated on the drag of her breathing. In and out, she counted them absentmindedly.

"Think of Genkai."

Eventually, the wracking tremors calmed into jittering shivers, cold around her spine as she continued to inhale gulps of much-needed air. The voices faded away, their echoes never failing to mock her weak state. However, Lan took what she could and this time, she's fine. Nothing more, nothing less. She'll be fine.

As long as there's Genkai.

It never failed to amaze Lan on how the pinkette—by thought or no—could easily manage to caress away her worries. It's always been her from the very beginning, and probably will be until the end.

Enma, where would she be without that woman?

 _'Arrested. Dead, maybe.'_

Shakily, Lan let her fingers brush away any wrinkles or dirt on her garment, determined to forget what just transpired even with the complete confidence of privacy. Her nerves still sang with fear, the pressure closing in that it made the broad of the sky feel imposing—caging, even as she continued to breathe evenly.

Suddenly, being out in the open fed on her paranoia.

She needed to go back home and compose herself.

Straightening up, Lan stood on the edge of the roof, feet nimbly balanced before proceeding to walk leisurely towards one corner. Decision firm, she pushed from the soles of her feet and set off, landing silently on her toes on an empty street. Her movement gave her distraction and she forced her focus on her steps.

Left and right, light and firm—Lan ignored the light caresses of the shadows begging to be unleashed again, seducing her with its cold blanket.

Her fists clenched.

She passed by a student.

She blinked.

"Yusuke should be finished with his school." Telling that to herself seemed to finally shove away the remnants of the shadows threatening to obscure her vision and they receded—locked and chained until they would unhinge loose once more. Soon, but not now. Lan pictured that crooked grin of Yusuke's in the forefront of her mind and pinned it there, adding it to the image of Genkai's to help her sanity.

Surprising herself, the thought of the detective brushed away the tiny shivers rocking her limbs. Slow and gently, until her steps eventually melted back to her languid gait.

Relieved beyond compare, a smile curled on her lips. Tired and small, but there.

She'd have to thank the detective for that. And maybe she could. Now

Pausing in her step, Lan briefly eyed the sun's position on the heavens with a quick glance to tell the time.

She crooned in thought. The reason she gave Genkai for leaving this morning was to visit Yusuke. It wouldn't hurt to actually do so, right? Lan saw no reason not to.

"Then again," Lan thought to herself once more. "He might have skipped school altogether today."

She could practically relay all those times Yusuke complained about his school. And who knows, maybe he's out with those friends he kept on mentioning about. Lan wouldn't mind meeting them as long as Yusuke's there. He had introduced quite a lot of things to her already, and she enjoys finding new curiosities to satisfy as well.

Like, that one day they sneaked out to play in the arcade, with him explaining the different rules, mechanics and the general goal in each video games. He had even dwelled on his love for the brutal yet fascinating human brawls called wrestling—adding in the names of wrestlers she probably would forget yet interested her for a brief moment due to their accomplishments. He talked about gambling and card games (they, Genkai included, played almost four nights in a week once). Then there were those mornings when he shared various cooking recipes along with his sardonic jokes. . .

All of those times were full of smiles. One she never expected to share with anyone other than Genkai.

All at once, she finally calmed.

Decided, Lan made to head towards Sarayashiki, the opposite road towards Meiou. She went through the narrow alleys as shortcuts before bounding back to the roofs once she was sure no human was there to witness.

It was quite unexpected, though refreshing, to have her demeanor changed from being anxious to being eager.

It gave her hope.

A silly thought, maybe, and yet she clung onto it akin to a newborn child would to their mother.

Then in another flip of a coin, Lan froze in mid-step.

Her nerves tensed for a different cause.

"Wha—" Snapping her head upwards, Lan stilled in caution, eyes narrowed and shoulders coiled. Instinctively, her hands fisted as she strained to listen. Ears perked with the effort to catch the fleeting sound, almost a gush amongst the wind.

 _'What is it?'_

A finger twitched.

Her head cocked.

Then all too suddenly, she whirled her attention towards the east, finally catching the sound—no, the _whistling_ tune that rang loud and clear. A manipulative rhythm that dripped with unhidden malicious intent. A piece of foreboding music for tragedy.

A prelude to chaos.

It only took a second for Lan to figure out what the sound entails, and another to confirm her thoughts when the wind brought to her its scent.

"Makaichu."

* * *

 **:)**

 **To avoid any confusion later on, all information I've gathered for this fic came from the Sub, Dub and manga. All of which are balanced to fit my plot since, we're all aware as to how the manga differs from the anime and how the Dub version made some changes from the Sub.** **This chapter, or rather the end of it marks the start of the Saint Beast Arc. A little anxiety episode from Lan here to demonstrate just how much she still depends on Genkai, even though she has been away for fifty years prior to the start of the show.**

 **Again, I apologize for the late update. I'm afraid I got lost in the path of life XD**

 **Dagdoth Fliesh \- I'm glad that you like the last update, though I'm sorry for this late one. And yes, the one Lan remembers is someone who simply looks similar to Kurama. I'm glad that you're enjoying the plot so far, even though there's barely any action yet. I have to put in Lan's connection with the other characters first before we get somewhere, and that's what the Saint Beast arc is for :)**

 **Samantha - Thank you so much! Though the update is very late :)**

 **Bubble Smoosher \- Thank you so much, and I'm glad you like my portrayal of Toguro. I wanted to explore his and Genkai's 'before' and 'after'. Toguro is quite a complex character to understand, so I wanted to expand as to how far he'd actually 'fallen'. Give a sense of pity, at least.**

 **ChineseLady123 \- Yes, Kurama's here! XD However, He won't get that much screen time until the end of Saint Beasts arc.**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"Wind"_ by Akeboshi  
** **Arc soundtrack (Saint Beasts Arc): _"Again"_ by Yui**


	8. Chapter 6

**a/n: three months again. . . this is a bad pattern XD nonetheless, my absence has something to deal with the fact that I've been busy over my new BNHA/Shouto x OC fic. First one too. If you adore BNHA, then perhaps you can try it out. The themes are similar to this one.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN YYH**

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **s|i|x**

* * *

 **FOR** a long moment, Lan was at lost. Anxious and conflicted as she stood on her place; one foot opting to move forward—willing to answer at the call of a threat— whilst the other pulled her back; to remain neutral and ignorant. Stubborn on the selfish need to keep herself hidden.

"Damn." Her hand whipped forward, catching a stray insect dwindling low on the ground, intent on easing itself into an oblivious teenager walking leisurely by.

Before the human could even comprehend what the strange noise behind him was, Lan was gone. Coming and going in a blink of an eye, dropping the crushed insect as it dissolved into nothing as she went, and the boy was left shrugging, turning to resume his way towards the bowling alley.

For nearly an hour, _this_ was what she was reduced to doing: contemplating.

Contemplating and snatching up demon insects whenever she'd spot one wandering by, hoping to somewhat dwindle down their numbers the more she easily crushed their miry exoskeletons. Although judging by the heavy scent carried by the wind, she wasn't doing much. Nothing but a fractional effect. In fact, her nose told her quite the opposite.

The scent was growing heavier by the minute, their radius stretching farther to succumb territories upon territories—spreading like the disease that they surely were.

It surprised her as to how worry gently scraped the pit of her gut.

Finding herself in another dim alley, Lan didn't waste time looking as to whether a human has seen her or not before she clambered up to the roofs with a clean leap, using the advantage of a bird's eye view and the open air for her abrupt mission.

Truthfully, contemplating simply became an inner monologue of self-scolding as she caved into doing this. . . nonsense. If it wasn't for the obvious brewing of trouble incoming, Lan would've turned her back on the situation, as she had done so for numerous times in the past fifty years—turning her back when the possibility of a spotlight balking right onto her unguarded form and destroying her years of effort in hiding.

Truth be told, most of her hotwired instincts still urged her to turn on her heel and return to Genkai's territory, where none of this mayhem could ever bother her. The welfare of this city doesn't concern her.

But there was a difference now. An obvious, staggering difference—

Shoulders locking, Lan let her gaze swiveled towards the left, her feet following just a second behind as she ran from roof to roof, nearing the cloud of demon insects hovering by a satellite on a roof. Not a second later, she took care of them with a series of well-aimed knife-hand strikes, primly picking a few who attempted to flee by their wings before simply enclosing her fist with them in it.

A scoff was all she let out to voice her disgust.

—the staggering difference was obvious.

It was Yusuke, the sole reason why she couldn't simply turn a blind eye towards the situation.

This sudden spreading of demon insects would surely call the attention of the Reikai Tantei. Skilled or no, Lan knew he would need help.

The whistle she heard earlier (sung just once in the past hour) obviously could not be played by itself. There's a possessor, and Reikai would no doubt snip the source as their priority. The least Lan could do was to minimize the damage so that Yusuke could do his job in eliminating the possessor with only minimal leftovers as much as possible.

"I hope you're doing something clever about this, Yusuke." Lan mumbled to herself, briefly dusting her hands before running off to her next target.

Frowning to herself, the demoness diverged from her original path on the roofs, having heard the telltale flutter of wings to her right from another alley. Along with it, the obnoxious sputters of those human vehicles running about could be heard.

Her lips thinned. _'They're beginning to_ _fly low.'_

Landing on the sidewalk, Lan caught herself on the last minute and hid behind a thick pole as a couple passed by, offering an uncomfortable nod when the pair sent odd stares on her person. Fortunately, they moved on, and Lan walked towards the way where they came from, unable to run in her choice of pace with the number of humans nearby and the occasional cars driving past.

Maneuvering around humans whose eyes were either glued on their cellular mobiles was easy, though irksome. She was reminded yet again how most of this species often spend their life enclosed in a metaphorical bubble, uncaring to anything that doesn't concern their own.

Or, at times, to the point of neglecting their own safety.

Lan momentarily placed a hand on a child's forehead as she passed, successfully stopping him from running out into the road. A second later, a car sped past them.

"This is no place for a child to run around." Lan sighed through her nose, removing her hand on the boy's head of unruly, brown locks.

The boy arched his neck, lips pursing into a sheepish pout. "Sorry, nee-san."

Lan offered nothing else but a smile (stiff as she heard the whizz of an insect), a pat on the back for him to go along and a simple, "Go to your mother."

With a careless blink, the child stared as the weird lady walked away without looking back, cocking his head as he eyed the odd swish of her bizarre hair. It was a wonder how other people could remain ignorant of her presence when she stuck out like a sore thumb.

"At least she didn't get hurt too." Muttered the child, gripping his ball to his chest as he went to go find his mother.

Quick as the wind, the thought of reckless, oblivious humans flew out of Lan's mind the second her ears caught the play of a whistle, singing the very same tune she had heard earlier. Muscles jumping with each note played stringing her tension, she listened as the music froze the very air around her with its poisonous melody, pushing her to frown at the mockery twisted in its tone.

She could almost taste the sudden swerve in the atmosphere akin to the sound of a pin dropping in a moment of silence.

The sudden sound of fluttering overshadowed the lull of the melody, prompting Lan to shake herself out of her stupor and follow in haste.

 _'That's twice in an hour,'_ gritting her teeth, she pushed past the throng of people, paying no mind to their indignant cries. _'Yusuke. . .'_

Purpose firm in her veins, Lan halted before the mouth of an alley, found between a closed store and an empty flower shop. It was alarmingly isolated and cloaked with hungry shadows despite being situated in a busy street. Still, she stalked deeper within with her chin raised in caution, fingers twitching with nerves when she discovered—with a clench of her jaw—that the darkened alley was uncharacteristically silent. Devoid of light and overruled by an eerie silence. Nothing but the sound of her steps echoed and when she chanced a glance back, the way out seemed like a world away.

Brows knitting further, Lan wondered where the sound of fluttering wings went. It led her here, she should've heard it if it went away, but not a sound filtered within the very air of the dark alley.

"Where—" The words died in her throat, a gasp falling from her lips when a single movement at the very corner of the alley caught her eye.

Though cloaked by the shadows, the movements were more than visible—each twist of a limb evoked the screech of joints cracking and popping. A sound so disturbingly eery to her ears.

She blanched.

Lan felt her own eyes wide by a fraction, her limbs freezing momentarily when the—the _thing_ finally slithered out of the shadows and released its first noise.

The growl that came was caught between a mangled groan and furious roar. Malicious and brainless, a sound that pulled goosebumps down her arms. And when it finally fell beneath a shy beam of light, Lan fully witnessed what a makaichu could do, and it brought a wave of absolute fury and disgust that gnarled her face.

 _It_ was human. At least, it used to be.

Gone was his fair skin replaced by a sickly blue coloring his skin leathery instead—gaunt on his cheekbones and emphasizing each ridge on his hollowed face. His lips were dry, opened in an inhuman snarl that showed large teeth dripping with spit like a wild dog. Dark strands fell in haphazard drapes, greased with sweat and blood that contrasted greatly against the navy of his skin.

Lan pictured the once sane man dragging his nails all over his scalp, wondering what's eating his sanity bit by painful bit as the insect wormed its way within.

And at the sight of his rotten, corn-yellow gaze, Lan tried to swallow her rage, managing to calm herself to a minimum when it— _he_ released another growl, madness foaming at the corners of his mouth and bringing a violent glint in those brutal eyes.

"I see," mumbling incoherently to herself, Lan stood, composed as the man staggered forward, his disheveled clothing somewhat hindering his manic movements.

 _"_ **AARGH** **!** "

She made no move as the man craned his neck in his shout.

She made no move when he set his animalistic gaze on hers.

And she made no move when she heard the telltale crack of a bone snapping when the man rolled his shoulders forward.

A single emotion poured through the silence of her mind, a pathetic shred of what seemed like pity. Yet she could not fully immerse in the feeling, because with it, a painful reminder of herself doused her in fury.

Lan saw what lay beneath the yellow gaze. She heard a mirror of a scream—the scream of a puppet wanting and waiting for the strings to be severed. A mirror of her own.

Behind a glass of indifference, she was reminded what it felt like not to be in control.

Lost in her bubble of reverie, the whistle came back with a tune different from before.

Startled, Lan stared upwards just as the crazed man did after stilling his movements. They listened, her with a churning feeling beginning to racket away in her stomach. She could sense it. The lulling music was a lure.

A beckoning.

And laced with it was manipulation at its best, spurring and patient. A drug to prolong the malevolent chaos sure to follow.

Sure enough, when it faded, the crazed man regained his posture once more, his stance straighter and far more imposing than his witless flailings prior. Watching him made the feeling in her gut intensified and Lan readied herself.

A grin was flashed on her way. **"Kill. . ."**

Surprise was evident when the man moved in an inhuman speed. Not on par with a demon's, but certainly not normal for a human. His hands reached for her neck, fingers curled with his chipped nails threatening to injure.

However, surprise aside, Lan was still quicker.

Dropping into a crouch to escape his reach, she pushed from the tips of her toes to propel herself forward, punching the heel of her palm to the man's abdomen, causing the latter to cry out in pain and shock as he staggered backward.

"How troublesome."

Rolling to the side to avoid his stumble, Lan snatched the end of the man's coat from behind, yanking fiercely to send him sprawled on the ground on his back and effectively knocking his breath out as Lan—in the last quick second—caught the back of his head with her palm before it met the ground, remembering that his body is still completely human and therefore, would still receive excessive injuries to her demonic strength due to his open vulnerability.

That didn't mean that she would let the man go.

Once he was down, Lan swiftly maneuvered her knees to hold him down—pinning him by the elbows with a threatening pressure to break. The palm holding the back of his head moved along with her movements, slamming on his forehead to keep him down when he tried to snap his teeth at her. He thrashed beneath her, momentarily catching her off guard by the force behind his flying limbs.

"Quit it." She clicked her tongue, teeth gritted in irritation.

" **AAARGH!** **ARRGH**! **AHHH!** **GAAAAAARRRGH!** "

Over and over it went—each a stabbing pierce to her ears as the man screamed and screamed, spitting foam and saliva as his head twisted and turned beneath her palm, trying in vain to free himself as his hands tried to push her knees off his elbows.

Lan growled again. "Stay still!"

" **KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!** " The man repeated the shout in a mantra, a laugh bubbling deep in his chest as his sanity finally broke. Nothing but the thirst for bloodshed clear in that yellow gaze—the very gaze that she's starting to hate more and more in each passing second.

Suddenly, the man stilled, blue lips cracked into a demented grin. Lan had to clamp down the urge to recoil at the deranged look.

 _'What. . .?'_

He sucked in a breath, long and bloated, then after a slight falter due to a drop of his chuckle, he bellowed the one last mantra in a pitched scream that she knew could be heard for miles.

" **KIIIIIIIIILLLL!** "

"Ah!"

Lan shut her eyes from the pain on her ears, jaw clenching in an effort not to cringe at the ringing resounding deep in her head—jumbling her thoughts into a frenzy as she heard nothing but the man's garbled scream digging into her eardrums.

In a desperate attempt to stop the noise, Lan brought her right hand up, index and middle finger at a ready before she slammed each tip on the man's chest aimed at the valley between his pectorals.

The contact choked back his scream into silence and he slumped, unconscious as his breaths ran ragged past his gaping mouth, eyes still wide yet unseeing—a sickening yellow beneath strands of greasy black.

Lan stood once the threat was averted, scrunching her nose in distaste at the way her limbs grew heavy. Not a moment later, her eyes caught something slithering out of the man's mouth and she didn't hesitate to snatch it up before crushing it in her hold, allowing the anger simmering just beneath her calm receive satisfaction at the tiny squeak the insect emitted. Anger at the control and damage they bring upon unwilling individuals.

She, of all, would know.

When the blue tinge on the man's skin began to reside little by little, Lan allowed herself to relax, only then detaching her gaze from his unmoving form. In her head, she couldn't resist offering a small apology for the unsuspecting human—both at the unwanted circumstance he landed into and for knocking him out.

"The whistle controls the insects," she wondered with a frown. "And the insects control humans."

When she put it like that, it wasn't difficult for Lan to make her next decision. She was far from thrilled, but what she just saw bounded close to her personal issues and she found herself unable to turn away.

Sighing, she straightened her collar, shakily releasing the tension on her shoulders at the reckless move she just made. Flexing her right hand, she held it up to her face, eyeing the fingers that had poked the man's chest.

With a slight glare, she curled her fingers into a fist.

Aside from Yusuke, she had never used her pressure points upon a human before, and she would rather not add more to that list. But even with her spars with the detective, she had never landed a direct one on his person, merely stopping to graze the skin an inch before she'd make any kind of contact—though she didn't bother correcting him for mistaking her ghost of touch to an actual one.

Human nerves were implicitly more fragile than that of a demon's. Letting her strength get the best of her could result different than what she could expect. Applying the technique on Yusuke on the first try had been a gamble, urged by an age-old instinct buried within that she couldn't—for the life of her—prevented until she pulled back at the last second. She had been so shocked on her behalf, unable to comprehend that she had easily succumbed to an old reflex.

" _Is that all you got?"_ Were Yusuke's voice when he taunted her. Sweaty, drained and dizzy Yusuke. Yet still urging her to fight.

She had been so astounded—so utterly befuddled and irritated that he'd go so far for a simple spar that she wanted nothing more than to end it. End the spar and have him rest while she would clear her mind because it was only in that last second did she realized that she took on her old stance. The stance she would always do whenever she decided for a quick and clean kill.

That was the purpose of the pressure points. Her very own that's only meant for fellow demons.

Shaking her head with another troubled sigh, Lan dropped her hand, ignoring the speckle of blood on the nail of her middle finger. No doubt from stabbing the man's chest too hard out of sheer emotions.

She'd have to control herself better.

When Lan was already preparing to leave, opting to take the roofs once more, another commotion was heard not far off from where she stood. Another growl; another manic series of tortured screams.

There was more than one.

"Genkai would have been useful." Huffing, Lan took off, leaving just in time when someone spotted the sprawled body of the man in the alley. She had no time to worry about what would happen to the body. After all, Reikai would find a way to arrange this mess, and she has no time to dwell on a job that is not hers.

Then to add more weight to the problem, the whistle sang once more. . .

Lan frowned. "Three."

* * *

"You," his voice was smooth, a leveled deliverance with no hint of falter evident. No doubt nor confidence to tell.

Nothing but the plain truth to convey.

"You cannot hide from a thief like me." He finished.

There was no mercy spared, no second glances to humor his decision. Not that it would by any chance, yet as his opponent switched from oozing all the cockiness in the world into stark fear, Kurama found himself indifferent.

Or rather, dare he say it, bored.

"NO!" Genbu cried, his pupils a mere dot in anxiety. "Wait, please! Stop!"

Ah, yes. The begging for mercy. A second chance.

If Kurama allowed himself to be blunt, he would have revoked such pleadings with a cold reminder of their sins. Not entirely relishing at their fearful flinches, but it was satisfaction all the same.

However, he knew he had long lost such right; the right to rub salt onto sensitive wounds. Being a demon of no mercy once does not entirely mean he is to be categorized as ruthless. He was no savage, no tyrant, no conqueror.

Youko had lived for the hunt and it would always be the hunt—and the treasure, of course. Killing is common in their world and as such, he would, but he does not find joy in taking life.

It was always the hunt.

The challenge.

But it does not change the fact that even as a human now, anticlimactic beggings bore him.

Not to mention that this demon—this _Genbu_ —was part of the group who had unleashed whatever chaos onto his city. Possibly harming his mother.

"There's no mercy for someone like you." He spoke, gently, as if to appease a child's whine. Then, tossing the pulsing red stone high in the air, Kurama gave a fierce flick of his wrist and slashed the slab in half with his whip.

Genbu' scream echoed throughout the castle, agony, and shame clear in his voice. He failed, that was evident. His stone body began cracking and splinting, a series of nerve-wracking _cracks_ until his scream wavered—choking, and then Genbu was no more, combusting into powders and ashes.

From the sidelines, Kuwabara took a cautious step forward, a scowl marring his expression when the ashes tickled his nose.

"It's over, right?"

Yusuke stared at the cloud of dust that briefly hung on the air. "Yeah, it is."

"Good riddance." Scoffed Kuwabara, still eyeing the spot where Genbu once stood.

The detective merely nodded in agreement, finally letting the relief flood his system. That Genbu had been an annoyance to fight, and Yusuke swore he nearly had a heart attack for worrying over the fox. The stone demon was pesky, but when all is said and done, his weakness was simple.

And Kurama had the eye for it.

Turning towards the redhead in question, Yusuke began to make his way over, a grin stretching his lips as a cheer in a form of congratulations was already at the tip of his tongue.

However, he barely made two steps when he promptly swallowed his tongue, eyes wide and paling at the sight before him.

On the floor, crouching, was Kurama—his free hand against the gaping wound on his stomach.

"Kurama!"

Yusuke ran towards the fox's side, shadowed by Kuwabara and Hiei, the latter sporting an uncommon frown on his face.

"I'm fine." Kurama attempted a smile, though even a blind man can detect the twinge behind it.

"To think you're wounded this seriously," Hiei stated, meeting Kurama's eyes with a silent message passed between them.

Pursing his lips to battle against the pain, Kurama had to rip his gaze away from Hiei's scalding glare, choosing not to address the reprimanding within those crimson eyes. However, he was very much aware of what the fire apparition meant.

A simple glance towards an oblivious Kuwabara was enough.

Swiveling his gaze towards Yusuke's, Kurama offered a sheepish chuckle. "I apologize, Yusuke."

"It's alright," said boy waved a careless hand. "Just leave the rest to us. You've done enough."

 _'That's what worries me,'_ behind his eased smile, Kurama chose not to answer. It was a given that there was no worrying needed for Hiei, and he had no doubt that the detective could stand his own ground as well after going through intense training for a month prior to this mission, as had Koenman had explained. Details were not given, but the fox just had to trust Yusuke.

However, the addition of one Kuwabara Kazuma was unheard of and therefore unexpected.

While the ginger was a surprisingly easy fellow to like, Kurama knew none of his abilities or skills. He was a human without rank nor name for himself that would cower demons. And against the Saint Beasts, it was without question as to why Hiei detests his injury.

Kuwabara could either be a liability, or their dark horse.

"You can stand, right?" Said ginger asked from beside Yusuke, leaning in to offer his support if needed.

"No need," Kurama gritted out, pushing to stand firmly on his feet. When the others were certain that he can handle his own, they let him tuck in his whip after returning it back to a seed once more.

"Just take it easy," Kuwabara offered with a grin. "I'll take the next one, that's for sure!"

Try as he might, Kurama could not resist a smile at the ginger's enthusiasm. A total opposite from the discreet eye roll coming from Hiei.

Nonetheless, even with concern eating his insides, Kurama did nothing to kill Kuwabara's confidence.

"We should go." Yusuke nodded at them, still eyeing the gash on Kurama's uniform, hesitant.

That wouldn't do.

Making the decision for them all, Kurama obeyed the command by leading the way, shadowed by a still worried Kuwabara with his arms awkwardly stiff yet ready in case the former needed a shoulder to lean on. A wry smile and a nod for reassurance were all the fox would give, and for the most part, he was truthful. The injury was deep, and he was losing a lot of blood by the second. Now as a human, a part of his grew weary with the decrease in strength.

Yet his demon side still trudged on with barely a blink.

They have no reason to worry.

Deeper and deeper, their merry little group walked further into the dank castle, shoulders squared in alert with all five of their senses stretched to their very limits. Their phase may be slowed a little due to Kurama's injury (to his regret), but none of them could deny the fact that the very atmosphere of this castle made their fingers curl into fists.

Soon, the four of them reached a lengthy flight of stairs, narrow and spiraled that they automatically fell into a line to go through. Yusuke led the way with Kurama behind him, a hand still on his gaping wound with Kuwabara still scowling his concerns from behind. Hiei had taken up the rear, briefly glancing over his shoulder from time to time at the smallest scurry he could hear.

"Let's stop here for a bit," Yusuke announced later, pausing in his strides after going up the stairs. An empty hall was what greeted them afterward, the way ahead dark with whatever obstacles they have to go through next. It sat uncomfortably on Yusuke's belly, but he shrugged away the feeling before turning towards Kurama.

"How are you holding up?"

"Good," Kurama dipped his chin with a faulty smirk. "I'll live."

"Well, that's reassuring," Yusuke shrugged. "Thanks."

Sarcasm was never the best medicine for pain, but Kurama had to hide his grin at the detective's deadpan.

Little ways to their side, Kuwabara rolled his eyes at their sardonic exchange before he caught sight of an open window by the corner. Immediately, his attention for his dysfunctional teammates dimmed as his interest was snatched and he marched towards the opening as calmly as he could muster—peering outside with his hands gripping the stone edge.

A gust of wind hit his face.

His jaw fell slack.

 _'It's kinda creepy,'_ consciously putting in the effort to shut his mouth, Kuwabara attempted to stifle his shock. He should not have been so surprised, but his entrance along with Yusuke earlier had only provided him glimpses.

This—with his blatant gawking and all—was different.

Makai was clearly a world of red skies and purple clouds, with the wind unrealistically being cold and hot at the same time. It was all things gloomy and evil. Everything in it tied knots of foreboding in his stomach. Yet still, it amazed him for some bizarre reason.

Kuwabara would take it all in.

Then he can tell these amazing stories to his grandkids someday.

"Do you have something to stop the bleeding?"

Yusuke's question immediately grabbed all their attention, and Kuwabara leaned away from the window to shuffle back closer to the group. Begrudgingly, he noticed the midget lean against the wall without a care in the world, lips still in a tight line and offering no help other than a glance at the redhead's stomach.

He inwardly scoffed, _'Rude.'_

Tearing his attention away from Hiei, Kuwabara stared at Kurama just as the latter removed his hand on his stomach.

His hand was caked in blood. Not much, but enough for Kuwabara to suppress a shiver.

"I've already planted a seed that would hinder the bleeding," Kurama flashed another one of his prim smiles at the expectant gazes. "You have no need to worry, really."

Kuwabara doubted what a seed can do, but from what he had seen so far from the redhead, he can bend any plant's purpose to his whim.

"But you can't fight with that injury." Came Hiei's sudden statement, pushing himself off the wall with his ever permanent scowl burrowing deeper. "We still have three opponents left."

"Yeah," Kuwabara scoffed before he could even think of replying. "And there's still three of us."

A simple swerve of Hiei's eyes towards the detective said all the expectation he had for the ginger. None.

"One of us is _pitiful_ at best."

"What did you say?!"

Yusuke barely acknowledged Kuwabara's offended shriek as he mulled over Hiei's words with a barely concealed sigh.

"Are you deaf now too?"

No matter how much Yusuke disliked it, Hiei does have a point. His friend may be far from normal than any other people, but against a bunch of wanna-be-saint demons, Kuwabara could be looking for trouble far worse than Rando.

"One more word and I'll pummel you until _you're_ deaf!"

 _'I should have asked for Botan to contact that old hag before she dragged us all down here.'_

"If that means it'll stop me from listening to your squeals, then please do."

"That's enough, Hiei."

 _'Or maybe Lan_ _,'_ Yusuke thought to himself with a frown. _'Preferably Lan. Probably.'_ Rubbing the back of his neck in exasperation, Yusuke finally joined in the conversation before it could escalate any further.

Not that what he said helped in any way. "You could barely stand until Kurama won against Genbu, Kuwabara."

Kuwabara jerked his snarl away from Hiei to the detective. "Shut it! I was just surprised."

Composing himself free of irritation (Yusuke takes full credit), Kuwabara stood with his hands akimbo, chest puffed with all the confidence he could gather. "I wasn't exactly sitting around when you were out training with Genkai, you know!"

"Were you learning how to braid your sister's hair too?" Yusuke had the impression that training under the hag's surveillance is different from training on your own. Plus, even if Kuwabara chanced to throw himself under the same regime, that would be suicidal. _'That'd be stupid. Even for him.'_

Filled with the stubborn need to prove himself, Kuwabara harrumphed and held out one hand forward. "Watch this!"

None of them knew what Kuwabara has under his sleeve, thus were all left watching in anticipation until a soft glow of reiki began to emit from the ginger's palm—a steady glow of citrus orange forming into a smooth round ball, crackling and popping, like electricity running in mayhem, but controlled.

Yusuke arched a brow along with Hiei.

"Reiken!" In a sudden burst of ki, a sword morphed out of Kuwabara's swirling energy, glowing a fierce shade of tangerine in his grasp.

Kurama blinked, silently stunned as Kuwabara pointed the tip of his reiki sword at Yusuke. "Impressive."

In reflex, Yusuke inched away with a glare. "Watch it, birdbrain!"

Sheepish, the ginger pulled the sword away from the detective's face, choosing to hold it up for all of them to see. "I was trying out different things when you were gone for a month, and I was able to summon the sword back without a stick or something."

"Right," Yusuke scrunched his nose, remembering the first time Kuwabara conjured a sword from his reiki with the help of a broken piece of a bokken during Genkai's Tournament.

Still, it was no excuse to point a sword at his face.

"I'll take on your reigan anytime, Urameshi!"

Yusuke responded by flipping him the bird. "This finger is enough for you."

Undeterred, Kuwabara merely widened his grin and raised his sword, the tip facing the ceiling. "Extend!"

At his command, the sword grew longer and brighter, each douse of length causing the sword to flare in its orange blaze.

". . . So it's like a spear."

The way Yusuke threw out his words took away the impressive impression at Kuwabara's display.

Kurama stiffly lowered his head to hide the quiver of his lips, amused (though he knew he shouldn't be) at the way the ginger's giddy enthusiasm morphed into a pout.

"I can control my sword at my will," Kuwabara huffed, shortening his sword once more before extinguishing it fully. "Its shape, its size. Everything! I know I freaked out with Genbu—yeah, I admit it. Laugh all you want, you shrimp. But I was shocked, that's all. From now on, I'm gonna be as cool as ice—"

Before any of them could comprehend the situation, Kuwabara's legs suddenly gave—ankles twisting like jelly as his knees lost all sense of coordination. Unable to finish his statement, he crumpled on the spot.

"Hey!"

"D-Don't worry," Kuwabara sniggered, completely immobile on the floor with a dazed look on his face. "That happens. Sometimes."

Sometimes.

To prove his point, Hiei shared a look with Kurama.

Shaking with a barely restrained growl of annoyance, Yusuke finally snapped.

This day was simply not going to his plan at all.

All he wanted was to spend a day relaxing without having the hag's voice nag his ears, or a day without Lan kicking his ass and _possibly_ —just _possibl_ _y—_ lessen Keiko's worry slash irritation towards him for a second.

But no.

Instead, he got dumped into another assignment without any forewarning and he finds out some crawly insects were spreading something worse than a damned dengue virus. Then there's a bunch of demons that ironically call themselves 'Saints' and, if that wasn't enough, Kurama gets himself injured.

Now, Kuwabara has to go off and make himself useless before a fight.

Today was _not_ good.

"GET YOUR ASS OFF THE FLOOR, YOU DAMNED IDIOT!"

A beeping noise suddenly penetrated through the air, breaking their coiled atmosphere and thoroughly interrupting the detective's fuming.

Remembering the device Botan gave him before she pushed him down the portal for communication, Yusuke frowned, confused.

"What now?" He grumbled just as Kurama shuffled closer whilst Kuwabara shakily pushed himself to stand.

Fishing the compact from his pocket and flipping the lid up, Botan's face immediately flashed for all of them to see.

"What do you want, Botan?"

"Yusuke, this is awful. You guys have to hurry in destroying that whistle!" Botan was ignorant to the impatient edge on his tone. However, the taut anxiety was stark clear on her face; cheeks pale of her usual color whilst sweat glued pesky strands of her hair to her skin. "The situation here suddenly just got worse—ah!"

"Oi!" His irritation swept away, Yusuke gripped the compact harder. "Botan! What's happening?"

Seconds later, the sound of a spray was heard through the device. Yusuke waited until Botan's hold on her own device was in order and he along with the others could see her better now.

Botan flicked a few glances about before focusing on Yusuke once more. "Listen, Yusuke, I'm still doing some patrol around here and things aren't looking so good. I saw a few demon insects hovering around a kindergarten just now and a whole batch earlier near an elementary school. They're increasing in number so I'm sure that the Saint Beasts just issued another wave. They're spreading farther and faster now! It'll be hard to track them down from this point."

Yusuke felt his own cheeks loosen its color. "Don't tell me they're taking over kids now? I thought that they only control really depressed people or bad ones."

"As I've said before, people with darkness in their hearts are easily influenced, that's why these demon insects flock around them so much. But that doesn't mean that they can't force themselves into the minds of children!" Botan was distressed, pink eyes gleaming with worry at the situation. "This can cost them their lives, Yusuke! Children's minds aren't strong enough as an adult to cope up with the effects of the makaichu. You have to hurry!"

At the news, Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Kurama froze—a cold feeling wrapping around their spines at the heavy threat.

It felt dangerously similar to that time with Gouki, Yusuke thought. But this was different, perhaps even more crucial.

The clock began impatiently and a noose was coiled around their necks now.

A second too late could very well end it.

Picking at his stubborn determination, Yusuke pushed himself onwards then, willing his legs to run faster as the three behind him followed in sync. "Tell us, more, Botan. We're advancing forward as of now. These guys are tough nuts to crack, so just hang on a bit."

"I know," Botan huffed. "But I couldn't possibly do this on my own! There's only so much that I can cover, and I can't exactly hear the whistle to guess what's happening. It might be worse for all I know—AH!"

Yusuke nearly tripped, fear tightening its hold over him in a cold clutch. "Botan!"

Watching through the small screen, they could see the compact clatter from Botan's side, signaling that she dropped hers. At the angle of the compact when it fell, they could clearly see why.

"BOTAN!"

The four stopped on their tracks, agitated at the sight of a crazed man lifting the dainty girl by her throat. Yusuke hasn't seen anything like that, whatever it was. But what it was _once_ before was clear.

A human.

The man's skin was a disgusting blue, with eyes glazed in maniacal glee and shining a penetrating yellow as he grinned far too wide to be even considered normal. For a moment, Yusuke found his mouth dry while his muscles jumped—yearning to do something. To help, yet knowing he couldn't. Botan's choked gasps pulled at the violent thudding of his panicked heart and he eyed the way her hands pathetically clawed at the blue flesh to get rid of the hold on her neck.

"He's killing her!" Kuwabara cried out, face ashen with fear clear in his grey gaze. A fear that Yusuke knew reflected in his.

And along with the fear, Yusuke felt the familiar rush of anger pump through his veins. _'Where was that bat she was carrying around before?!'_

A quick glance on the edge of the compact told him that she dropped it too.

"Fuck!"

Kurama narrowed their eyes at the sight, mildly worried for the ferry girl. He could bluntly admit that the girl's life had no effect on his, but the fact that a life—as any life would—is ending before him settled uneasily in the pit of his gut. Plus, Botan did petition for his and Hiei's testimony before the Reikai's ruler (her goal being as to give help to Yusuke, but it was still their freedom). Hence, they managed to settle for a shallow punishment. In a way, Kurama owes her, and he cannot settle that debt by watching her get strangled.

Silent in his musings, Kurama simply clenched his fists and looked away.

"Damn this!" Yusuke suddenly yelled. He watched as Botan's movements slowly became sluggish, futilely smacking at the man's iron hold without strength.

She gasped.

"BOTAN!" Yusuke screamed, eyes wide as he witnessed his friend flutter her eyes, near succumbing into oblivion.

His hand twitched to throw away the device.

He doesn't want to see this—doesn't _need_ to see this.

But then a notable blur arrived in the scene, jostling the image from their tiny screen for a second and the group froze.

Yusuke held his breath.

In a blink of an eye, the hand that was strangling Botan was suddenly wrenched away—twisted and pulled, with the wrist of the crazy man shoved against his spine. The quick action left Botan free from his choking hold and she fell harshly on her tailbone with a demanding gasp to swallow air, hands flying to nurse her aching throat.

Yusuke clutched the compact tighter again.

Through the screen, he saw the deranged man being tackled to the ground on his stomach, his free limbs flailing around to rid of the weight strategically situated above him to defer his brute movements. A pale hand was pushing on the back of his head, one calf grounding the back of the man's knees to cease his kicks whilst the other foot was pressing onto the other wrist.

He was irrevocably and undeniably restrained.

Yusuke had been in that position way too many times to count in the past from their spars. He knew the pain and the maddening realization that followed when he—no matter what—found that he could not move a muscle.

For once, he wasn't annoyed.

In their frozen state, it was Kuwabara who choked out his confusion.

 _"What?"_

A wobbly smile began to take over Yusuke's features as his grip loosened on the compact. In a move he was acquainted for far too well, he watched as the man was yanked to lay on his back, the other hand raised with only their index and middle finger uncurled for the finishing jab.

Yusuke could practically see the same image happening to him when those fingers were brought down in one, stabbing finish on the man's chest. Effectively stilling the man's movements in a snap.

A second later, one insect tittered out of the man's mouth and that was caught that too; swiftly smashed against the concrete with a terrible squelch.

Kuwabara visibly shuddered.

Yet still, Yusuke only felt relieved.

Despite having only half of her profile from the limited view the compact could offer, Yusuke knew that hair. Heck, who could forget that hue of lilac? And there was only one person he knew would be garbed in a qipao. Besides, that display of technique was enough to define that person.

Watching as the girl straightened to her full height, Yusuke grinned when she turned to look straight at Botan's fallen compact—straight at him.

"Glad to see that you can join the party, Lan."

Surprised at the detective's familiarity, Kuwabara shoved his face forward, a dumbfounded look replacing his repulsion as he examined the girl with the strangest hair ever, the thick locks seemingly thrown into a loose plait that reached just above the curve to her bottom. He could barely make out her face due to the small screen and the thickness of her fringe, but he sufficed.

But that was far from his concern. Urameshi was familiar with this chick.

"Glad to know that you started this party, Yusuke."

And the chick was familiar with _Urameshi_.

From behind, Hiei had subtly distanced himself away when Yusuke and Kuwabara began to hog the compact, the threat obviously averted with the ferry girl's safety assured. The action was done with the danger gone. Now, the newcomer's presence bore him. To his side, Kurama hung back too, though he clearly lingered to watch over the duo's tensed shoulders.

The newcomer was no passerby. That much was obvious to Hiei. Though the buffoon was just as confused as he was, the detective was evidently showing the opposite reaction. Hiei was familiar with that easy, flowing tone of banter; loose and casual, yet oddly formal too. It was the very same tone he shared with the fox.

That could only mean one thing.

 _'As if we need more Reikai puppets.'_ Frowning, Hiei slid his gaze away from the detective. Thus, coincidentally catching the subtle of twitch of the fox' fingers and the ever so arcane tilt of his head.

Hiei watched—with a sense of dragging patience—as Kurama leaned in to look over the detective's shoulder with puckered brows.

"Lan?"

* * *

As much as Lan felt relieved at—finally—meeting the detective in this hectic situation, she would rather it be on another circumstance.

Loosening her hold on the deranged man's mussed collar, Lan lifted herself from her perch with a halfhearted glance towards the girl she had saved.

The girl, being a partner (of a sort) to the detective, completely drowned out any feelings of elation when Lan met that familiar brown gaze through a small, round compact device. She just saved another one of Koenma's workers.

The conclusion made her want to bang her head on a blunt object repeatedly.

Ironic how she had saved one of Reikai's when she was deliberately avoiding any means of acknowledgment from them.

Sour about her unfortunate predicament, Lan opted to ignore the girl. "Glad to know that you started this party, Yusuke."

From the ground, the girl finally seized her gasping coughs with great effort to soothe it in her own pace, keeping a hand around her bruising neck as she raised her head. An action that twanged the pain further.

"You—" she coughed, shoulders rattling with the force. "Y-You. . . k-know Yusuke. . . H-How?"

Against her will, Lan finally met the girl's gaze with a roll of her eyes. "I just do."

Botan, helpless and shuddering on the dirty ground, had to stop herself from flinching against the stuttering coldness present in those blue eyes; dark and sour with subdued power. In contrast, there was no restraint—no fence to constraint what goes within that gaze. And maybe, that was what made her stare even more frightening.

Because it was pure, unrestricted and resolved coldness.

"Uh," Botan swallowed, wincing when it pinched against her sore throat. "T-Thank you. . . for saving me. I'm B-Botan."

"Hn," furrowing her brows, Lan scanned through her memory about various tidbits from the conversations she had with the detective that could define the girl with jewel pink eyes. The name did sound familiar—a fleeting name mentioned only in obligation.

Though with frequent characters such as 'Keiko' and 'Kuwabara', a 'Botan' would surely go unnoticed.

Sharp eyes slid back towards the fallen device. "You've never mentioned someone named Botan before."

Aghast, Yusuke lost his words just as Botan—thrown at the curveball—scoffed, glaring furiously at her compact despite her still aching throat.

"Well, I, uhhh—"

"Lan?"

At the interjection of that voice, Botan shook away the small irritation, watching with avid fascination as recognition broke through within the stranger's—Lan, according to Yusuke—confused gaze. Then slowly, as if pulled by torpid reluctance, alarm widened her eyes as she remained staring at the discarded compact.

Maintaining a connection with someone who Botan already knew who.

"Shuichi?" Her shoulders slumped in the slightest, subconsciously glancing at the downed man when he evicted a groan.

"What do you mean 'Shuichi'?" Yusuke shot a questioning glare at the redhead who was, assumingly, beside him before shifting his attention back to Lan. "Who are you calling 'Shuichi'? He's Kurama."

Lan blinked once. Then twice. She didn't have to think to remember. _That_ , she can remember. After all, it had tickled her thoughts in a small possibility of connection after meeting him.

 _'Half-human, half-demon,'_ whispered the voice of the detective in her memory.

What a joy. In the end, she was right after all.

Such as the tricks of a small world.

"I see," Lan nodded and offered no more of her thoughts, not even caring when the redhead in question fell silent after just a brief breath of her name.

Chancing one last glance at Botan, who had shakily pulled herself back on her feet, Lan turned on her heels, intent on leaving the scene, losing the Reikai worker and ridding herself the attention.

Intent on leaving the man whose very presence (even if she argued that he was technically—currently—in another world) evoked the memory of his scent.

She had wanted to find Yusuke. Now she knew where he was. He was doing his job. Then she will do hers.

She went to leave. "I'll be off then."

She only managed three steps when Yusuke finally found his voice. "Wha—wait! Lan!"

Her steps unwillingly faltered. "What?"

"What are you doing there?" Yusuke asked, raking one hand through his hair, lips turning into a small frown. Not a second later, his eyes lit up with hope.

"Please tell me the hag dragged herself out of her cave and is there with you too. You're targeting those nasty bugs, aren't you? Can you hear them? Or smell them? Tell me you could at least smell them." He was giddy. That much was obvious even through the screen.

But Lan felt none of his relief.

Each question that Yusuke fired caused more panic to swell within her chest—bubbling and flaring as it sizzled warning bells in her brain. _'Yusuke!'_ She mentally chastised, inwardly vowing to punish the detective for spouting information that should remain unknown.

First and foremost, her connection with Genkai. And she would not allow her friend's name to be tarnished because of her.

Before the detective could input even more, Lan cut him off. Effectively withholding any more unnecessary spillings from him.

"Just me," she breathed, nose wrinkling as she resisted the urge to pinch her temples. "And yes, I am hunting down the insects as well as these infected people." Gesturing towards the unconscious man, Lan sighed through her nose.

Unaware of the trouble he had caused, Yusuke let out his own sigh, this one weighing his relief. "What's the progress? Care to update?"

Before Lan could even reply, a distant voice answered Yusuke's inquiry. A voice coming from, she deduced, the glimpse of ginger hair at the very corner of the screen. Other than that, she knows no more other than his voice being an odd mixture of gruff and scratchy.

"Botan already told you what's going on, Urameshi. I don't see why—"

"Well?" Stated Yusuke. Louder, and firmer. Clearly meant for the other one to shut his mouth as the detective continued to eye Lan for answers.

"Why you—"

"The whistle blew for a total of four times now." Lan slipped in before the conversation got sidetracked, stalking closer to see Yusuke better.

Yusuke's eyes widened, grinning with a look she became quite acquainted with. A victorious look that often follows whenever he guessed a correct answer. Genkai often remarked that when he could pull answers out of his ass.

With the exception of Yusuke, shock stoned everyone else. From her peripheral, Botan stiffened, and from the corner of the screen, just over Yusuke's shoulder, Lan could just see Shui— _Kurama_ arched his brows, lips parting as a haze took over his eyes.

"You _can_ hear it!"

Paying no heed to the others, Lan nodded in confirmation. "I can't exactly understand the orders being directed in each tune, but surmise to say, every time the whistle is played also levels up their intensity in approach. During the first play of the whistle," Lan counted with one finger. "I gambled it was the command to simply release the insects. There was no harm against humans involved then. Basically, it resembled scouting. I reasoned it must be, which proved to be true since in the second play of the whistle," another finger was added. "Another wave of the insects was released—clouds of them; spreading and trying to cover most of the city while they also began to possess people. The third play of the whistle was issued shortly after the second one, and that was when these deranged people began to be aggressive."

She nudged her head at the still unconscious man for emphasis, gladly noting that the blue in his skin began to recede. "I don't know the specific patterns as to how they pick their hosts, but they make quite a noise so it's not hard to miss."

"I'm sure," Yusuke muttered with a smirk. One that Lan smugly returned.

"However," her smirk faltered. "The latest play of the whistle had them all going back to this neighborhood, or those being infected are within this area. _Your_ neighborhood, Yusuke." She dropped her hand after her count, her voice heavy with the news she began to bring. "I'm still trying to figure out what is drawing them here, but I wager it's all connected to you in some way. In any case, their pace is slow, but growing in numbers. I'm guessing that they don't know what they're trying to find here, or perhaps they do know. Just searching for it." Lan finished, discreetly eyeing Botan who finally marched over to pick up her discarded compact since the former wouldn't.

"Are they a lot? Botan says they're starting to corrupt kids next." Yusuke hummed. Lan resisted the urge to point out the tiny furrow of worry beginning to knit his eyebrows and the telltale twitching of his lips into a frown. She couldn't blame the boy. Deranged people are trying to muck up his neighborhood in search of something to use against him.

She just has to figure out what before the whistle's possessor does.

Despite her caution towards Botan, Lan took another step forward to look into the detective's eyes better. "There is nothing stopping them to infect children, yes. But I would not worry."

Apparently, her answer was wrong. In an instant reaction of rage, Yusuke along with the glimpse of ginger hair from the side yelled at her through the screen, both of them sharing half of the size of the compact each since they hogged the device all to themselves again.

Good. They're blocking that fox' unnerving stare.

"WHAT?!"

"What do you mean _'don't worry'?_ Are you out of your fucking mind, Lan?!"

"Look lady, I don't know you yet but you just pissed me off! Those are just kids!"

"Move your ugly face away, Kuwabara, I can't see her!"

At the drop of the name, Lan perked once more. This time, clear recognition in her eyes. "So, he's _the_ Kuwabara?"

Immediately, the boys paused from their antics. Botan, still holding the compact for Lan, stared at her curiously. "You know him too?" She asked, the first words she dropped since she had introduced herself.

"Yusuke mentioned him a lot," was Lan's clipped explanation, then to the delinquent, she frowned. "And do calm down. The souls of children may be relatively easier and fresher to consume, but their bodies and minds are far too young and premature to carry the insects as hosts. They would be useless, therefore unable to do their purpose."

"She's right."

Again, Botan hummed curiously at the instant distaste Lan pulled at Kurama's voice. Before the girls' sight, both Yusuke and Kuwabara shifted around until the redhead became visible to their view again.

"Children would not be able to serve the Saint Beasts' objective," he continued, brows knitted in concentration as a tick appeared in his jaw. "Their bodies are too frail to commence fights, and their minds couldn't keep the insects long enough without dying or falling ill. Preference-wise, they'd be picked for food. But that's not the Saint Beasts' current priority, is it?"

After his explanation, Yusuke and Kuwabara visibly relaxed, angry frowns diminishing into nothing but a grim line. Satiated, but embittered.

He was right. And he worded it better than she did.

Typical of a fox.

"So," Yusuke started, gulping one huge inhale to prepare himself further. "We'll just have to hurry then, right?"

Lan thinned her lips, not entirely agreeing with the detective's easy tone. "Obviously."

Nodding, Yusuke fell silent, seemingly in contemplation with his eyes distracted. The look didn't suit Yusuke, she decided. It felt offsetting on his roguish features.

"How long?"

Lan cocked her head. "Pardon?"

"How long have you been tracking them?"

 _'Ah.'_ "I lost count after the first hour."

"And how many maniacs have you faced?"

It took her quite a while to answer. The faces of each human she had encountered began to blur somewhere down the line since the first one. Using her pressure point technique had taken most of her concentration when judging her strength and adjusting her aim with the different builds of the human body.

Not to mention, keeping her personal issues at bay.

As such, her answer remained the same: lost. "I lost count after the group by the park."

Satisfied with her answer, Yusuke nodded. "Then you can go with Botan to help."

Stunned at the blatant command coming from a mere fourteen-year-old delinquent, Lan clenched her jaw to hold back her recoil. The punk even tried to imitate Genkai's stony glare that she would associate when the pinkette was asking—demanding—her to train with him.

No matter how much she would try to convince herself that Yusuke has no idea of her predicament, she still has the urge to deck him for not taking a hint.

"No."

Apparently, Kurama had to wiggle in his opinion again.

"What?" The screen was adjusted again after Yusuke spoke, bringing the redhead completely back on view and entirely removing Kuwabara. The movement briefly gave Lan a glimpse of someone else at the very back. Someone clad in black. And small. Along with a very ridiculous hair.

 _'There's four of them?'_

"It's better if Lan and Botan would separate, they'd cover more area that way. Now that we know that Botan's not the only one handling things back home, they can use their number to their advantage, especially with the insects' growing population." Kurama explained to Yusuke with a pointed look.

A look that quickly morphed into a pained grimace.

Surprised at the unexplainable reaction, Lan let her eyes dropped to their own accord, immediately spotting the hand the fox was painfully holding to his stomach. Splatters of red dotted the skin on the back of his hand, more so on his fingers. Both fresh and dried.

The tiny screen could hardly give her a proper observation, but she could make out the area around his stomach that was a shade darker than his lustrous pink uniform.

He was hurt.

Lifting her gaze back up, Lan kept her mouth sewed shut, letting Yusuke fuss over the redhead while she observed through the screen.

All the while, Kurama's eyes didn't waver from hers.

"Fine," Yusuke finally said, after a brief discussion with Kurama in their own hushed whispers. "They'll separate."

"Don't worry, Yusuke." Botan suddenly moved to the side so that both she and Lan could be seen. "I can take care of myself. I was distracted when the man attacked earlier, but I'm good now. Anyways, the welfare of the city has to come first before us." She finished.

 _'Good.'_ Lan thought to herself, eased now that she wouldn't have to be with the girl. Judging by the small smirk coming from the fox (now backing away towards the one clad in black), Lan deduced that she owed him one. _'That's not good.'_

Their conversation was done. Sealed. But the roar that followed—billowing and starving from the detective's side of the screen was unexpected. The screen even gave a tiny shake.

Yusuke has to go.

"It's Byakko." Said Kurama, giving Lan the first and only clue as to who their opponents are for this madness.

The Four Saint Beasts.

Lan frowned to herself.

Kuwabara became visible on the screen once again when Yusuke moved his stance, and Lan saw the ginger gulp behind his comrades. His expression grim, pale and wary with a locked jaw. Finally, she can put a face to the name Kuwabara Kazuma; the boy baring the face of a typical Japanese with slanted eyes, light skin, and prominent round cheekbones.

His demeanor made Lan assume that he would face Byakko the tiger.

"Before you go," Lan called out, effectively drawing the group out of their trance after Byakko's eminent roar. "Remember, a tiger's stomach isn't as strong as it seems."

* * *

 **:)**

 **Admittedly, I had to change a lot due to the mountainous grammatical mistakes for this chapter. Not to mention, some scenes were unfitting, so I either had to remove them or change them. This one took a lot to edit, yet I'm not entirely satisfied. Hm. I hope you still enjoyed this one, nonetheless, and I apologize again for the late update. Good news though, I am currently writing the DT arc now. Or the start of it, so I'm very excited. The Saint Beast Arc is longer than I planned but, I hope you'll like it still. This arc has always been overlooked by most fics, so I wanted to emphasize the danger in this is quite alarming as well.**

 **Dagdoth** **Fliesh** **\- Yes, Lan is very stressed about that ring, but the mystery will unfold around said ring by the time the DT arc starts. I'm sorry for the delay for the last one. And this one too XD Thank you so much**

 **Guest - Her reaction here is mild at best, but they're in the middle of something, so you'll find out their proper reaction after. Thank you so much :)**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"Rewrite"_ by ASIAN KUNG-FU GENERATION  
** **Arc soundtrack (Saint Beast Arc): _"Again"_ by Yui **


	9. Chapter 7

**a/n: I apologize for the lateness. I can't believe it took me this long, I should start re-evaluating my schedule. . .**

 **Without further ado, the LATE LATE UPDATE with a mayhem of action~**

**UNDERLINED WORDS ARE DELIVERED IN CHINESE

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **s|e|v|e|n**

* * *

 _" **RELEASE** me!"_

 _Delicate was the ever arch of her brow, musing as hi_ _s voice became cracked—desperate and angry._

 _Humiliated to a fault._

 _The white tiger was a demon whose chest swelled with pride_ _—_ _oozing from the bulk of his muscles and planting deep into his very soul that a mere graze of his ego teetered the magma to his wrath._ _A_ _characteristic that the demoness noticed before him with nothing but a languid tilt of her head, shrugged as a rather disappointing commonality amongst their kind._

 _Those blinded by ambitions, anyways._

 _"Please! I. . . I beg you."_

 _Still, when given the cards to choose between pride and life, he chose the latter. A tiger meowing for a chance to escape instead of roaring his last show of dignity._

 _Yet another disappointing commonality amongst their kind._

 _Hm._

 _His piteous cries did not sway her cold front_ _—cries that were far_ _too recurrent to her immune ears. Heavy eyes swept upwards just to meet his gaze, yet his size did not deter her cool._

 _She felt nothing by the plea of unbidden mercy in his size, an overgrown cat practically bawling his eyes before her to cry for his life._

 _" Why should I?"_

 _In her eyes, he was a waste. The little territory he had among with other demons now lay as a heap of ashen land next to them—having long been devoured by fire, the casualties yet to be cleaned and assessed._

 _But this foolish tiger dared retaliate._

 _He dared to clash against the Third's Army._

 _Pitiful, truly, thinking his brute strength was enough. But for a moment, he was almost successful—claws swiping away papery flesh as he howled in dominant glee._

 _He was, after all, handling the weaklings._

 _"I'll do anything!" A sob. How unsophisticated. "P-Please!"_

 _" Why should I?"_

 _At her entrance, his bravado had seeped, l_ _eaving behind a frightened, shaking kitten._

 _He knew who she was. All of Demon World do._

 _Granted, she had given him a measuring nod at when he dared try to cross with her and with nothing to spare, she did play with him for a while. During which, she found the weakness of his stomach. A fact she tickled insults at._

 _It was disappointing how his bravery didn't last. Not even a quarter of a minute and he cowers, his loud roar becoming a whimper._

 _And now, he begs._

 _Why should she, indeed._

 _A frown marred her features behind the porcelain mask she wore—uniformly white and blank except for the two holes fitted for her eyesight. Decided, she made her leave._

 _"Worthless. Finish him."_

 _She didn't expect the fact that he'd still possess the gall to resist her selected team, but he did._ _Then_ _by a rare string of luck, he managed to escape._

 _Uncaring_ _, she let him be._

 _Chasing a kitty was not a hobby she wished to pursue._

 _It would be a long time until his name resurfaced once again in the Demon World, choosing a smaller territory and notedly far in the East. By then, her mutiny had altered the chain of commands enough to echo a series of uproars and uprising. Either way, she was never one to forget, and hearing the very name of the very tiger whom she'd let escape tickled her conscience._

 _Byakko the tiger would be the very first survivor before the face of one of the Six Rings. The only to survive to sketch her appearance._

 _And yet, none would take his word._

 _For who would when she let him escape out of sheer boredom._

 **x**

When their conversation had shriveled to an end, Lan didn't linger long enough in the presence of the ferry girl. She never planned to, and even the quick seconds that followed after the shut of the girl's compact was strained—vulnerable on her part.

Knifed to peel each layer of her secrets.

So, it was only reasonable that after a quick exchange of words, just enough to keep the girl unsuspicious, Lan poised to leave.

"I'll let you take this part of the neighborhood," her tone meant no further arguments, hands referring to their current location and its general perimeter. However large the bubbly-haired girl could handle. "I'll take care of the rest."

That was the only interaction she planned to initiate before edging to escape the scene, but before Lan could even grasp the chance to take one step, Botan's stark call rooted her on the spot.

"Wait!"

Grinding her teeth in an effort to shave off her impatience, Lan gazed at the girl over her shoulder. "Yes?"

Aside from the slight titter in her bravado, Botan steeled her spine with a huff, setting her hands on the curve of her hips with a tipped chin.

"Shouldn't we split it evenly? I mean, we need to cooperate properly on this!"

In a slip of a moment, Lan found herself unable to focus on the ferry girl's words and bored right into the latter's eyes instead. Her intentions were noble, that Lan was sure of, no matter how abrasively vocal the girl might be. From the demoness' point of view, there were no hidden motives nor agendas gleaming beneath the clear glass of those jeweled-pink eyes.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Similarly, she had seen a shift of that look in Yusuke, and maybe even in Genkai, once—but mortals never did tread past the grey areas of life. It was a capability none could ever succeed no matter how much dared to try.

But as a spirit, this Botan was all. . . _light—_ evident in her bright eyes that shifted between pink and purple.

For some odd reason, that bitter realization simply made Lan rip her gaze away.

"We are," she said. "I am giving you what you can handle, and I am going to do what I can."

Arrogance. Lan hated that in her own voice. Boasting always leaves a poisonous taste on her tongue and a wrinkle to her nose. She has always viewed braggarts as fools, nothing but flaunting barks with skills poorer than an infant's.

Calling herself a hypocrite now would wound what little pride she could mouth.

Oblivious to her musings, Botan shrugged off the offense at the implications of her scanty abilities, stubborn and adamant.

 _'Naive,'_ Lan finished in her head.

"Look," sighing, Botan spread her arms out as she attempted to explain. "I can't just leave most of the city's welfare in your hands. It's technically my job and I must see it through. Yusuke may know and trust you, but I don't!"

Lan blinked. Slow and critical—a tilt on one corner of her lips mocking the girl's show of bravery.

She has guts, Lan will give her that.

Unfortunately, not everything could be solved with simple valor.

"Then let's keep it that way."

Leaving Botan denied of speech, Lan took that small moment of the girl's dumbstruck gawking to move—disappearing within a flash and finally leaving the scene. Hopefully, to never see her again.

Nor have any more encounters with that of Reikai's _._

Yusuke was enough.

* * *

The thump of a boot echoed within the near-empty room, pronounced and regal, followed deliberately by a gruff announcement.

"They have reached Byakko."

". . . I see."

Golden eyes slid shut, arms stiff.

Seiryuu was not pleased, far from it—a dilemma in which he made no attempt to hide. He showed it within the deep frown pulling his lips into an unattractive sneer, brows drawn to form wrinkles in between, and the glare he held was palpable. Icy and penetrating as shards.

Still, when he spoke, his voice carried none of his displeasure towards their situation at hand. As a proud demon, he would have nothing less for his cause—for _their_ cause.

But those two fools were hardly ever reliable at best.

"Suzaku-sama,"

Darkness overruled the whole room, bathed by hanging shadows and stagnant silence—all save for the hollow breathing of what resembled like currents of lightning bolts occasionally shattering the darkness of the room. It was only in those brief moments was Seiryuu able to see his master, shoulders coiled yet stance tall, his back facing the proclaimed Blue Dragon whilst he watched the befalling of that worthless city from the widescreen attached to one wall.

The only light in the room couldn't pierce through the darkness like the currents did, skittering along his master's arm. Only Seiryuu knew what that meant when his master would subconsciously send tendrils of his electricity along his body.

Aggravation. Excitement.

As of now, it was a mixture of both.

The screen was their only way of knowing how well their plan was unfolding beyond the walls of the room. So far, it was not going to their favor. Not at all, it seems. Genbu had long perished, that pathetic excuse of a _supposedly_ invincible demon of the strongest rocks. And as for the tiger, he had gone off to face the intruders moments ago.

Still, Seiryuu has it in his utmost confidence that the kitty would fail.

Until now, he still wonders as to why his master even accepted that tiger as a part of their cause. All he does was eat, the glutton. And if not, he would be spouting false claims of when he escaped beneath the nose of the Third Army's leader in the West.

As if on cue, below their room, several floors beneath and from the other wing, Byakko's outraged roars could be heard echoing—the intensity of which was vibrating the very foundations of their castle.

Seiryuu sneered.

Pathetic indeed.

But on the other hand, Suzaku doesn't seem to care. Instead, his attention was purely captured by the screen before them. The source of his excitement, it seems—if Seiryuu could determine the odd gleam in those eyes as such—was provoked by the girl of foreign ethnicity.

 _She_ was effectively (too much so, Seiryuu observed with chagrined interest) taking down his master's crafted 'army' of possessed humans with direct jabs to their chests, smashing the insect that flitted out in turn. She only used both index and middle fingers to jab (similar to how Suzaku would control his element), all the while attempting to lure the herd away from any open area.

Clever. Quick. Crafty.

"She is amusingly resourceful, is she not?"

"Quite so."

Seiryuu must admit, the woman can fight. Lithe and slithering with fluid flexibility by the way her back would bend into a perfect arch to dodge the swipe directed to her middle. Her palms gripped the ground for leverage during her bend then—after achieving her balance—brought both her feet up to deliver a kick directly to the human's chest, going along with the momentum to flip herself upwards once more after. Even if the human howled in pain from the kick, a hand flying to paw his throbbing chest, he and Suzaku detected the small pullback of her legs.

Supposedly since, despite the makaichu's inhabitance in their system, she was still very well fighting against humans. Fragile humans.

Seiryuu wrinkled his nose. He'd be even more impressed if the woman would drop the delicacy she dealt with those humans. They were low beings who were lucky enough to breathe if asked him. But his opinion matters not on that.

What he and his master were interested in was her technique.

Death-point striking.

He'd never seen a technique like that for nearly a millennium. Most demons snorted at the technique—too soft, too quiet, too swift and much less blood for their taste. The amount of control required to even master that technique only made the rest who were interested drop their want to learn, for demons were hardly ever patient.

However, watching this girl reduce their number of demon insects at an alarming rate just depicted how gracefully deadly that technique was proving to be.

But against an army, she was still one individual of limited caliber.

At least, Seiryuu noted, the army was finally showing their potential.

This woman has been tagging and fighting for nearly three hours already, faster than that other girl with bubblegum hair. It was the reason why Suzaku deemed it best to sniff her out first, even if she was providing excellent entertainment. Efficient as she was, her stamina was beginning to dwindle.

"The army is tiring her out as expected, Suzaku-sama."

His master didn't reply immediately, letting silence drift first.

"That they are," he drawled, each word rolling out of his tongue in twisted malice.

"Should we send more?"

"No need." A smile. "Let her play for a while, we'll save the climax for later. You saw how she reacted at the company of that detective's assistant. She's hiding something if she's running away from a worker of the Spirit World _._ Let's see how she'll act when we force her back."

Exactly as he finished his statement, the screen flashed to another. Showing the view from above of a seemingly random school.

But they knew better.

"Any news on what the boy's weakness is?"

"Not yet, Suzaku-sama. Your bird has yet to return from her search."

"I see."

They were not concerned. Worthless or not, Byakko and Genbu will serve their role in winding down the trespassers. It was laughable when that Hiei even find it in himself to threaten them, as if he can. A demon at that size is hardly worthy of a fight.

In the end, he and Suzaku will win. They'll kill that detective and his amateur lackeys. Perhaps find more entertainment from that Chinese girl, then they'll see if they're willing to spare her.

* * *

Kurama couldn't quite help but recall today's earlier morning with a delicate grimace. Or, of what was _supposed_ to be a normal morning—if his expectations were highly lethargic at best.

In a manner of speaking, he was simply going through the everyday motions of his life when his peace was interrupted in the form of a frantic Botan garbed in his school uniform—jeweled eyes wide and blue hair swishing with her erratic jerks.

Caught off guard at her appearance, Kurama hadn't had the chance to rebuke her for pulling him aside in a secluded area—oblivious she was towards the hot glares of his female classmates and of his own disapproval towards her lack of discretion. Try as he might want to remind her of his situation, all personal qualms were seized to a halt when she promptly told him of Koenma needing his immediate presence.

That was his second clue to an abnormal change.

The third was when she said that Hiei was already contacted and waiting with the Prince of Spirit World himself.

Such high demands, and his morning recess wasn't even over yet.

Botan had no need to elaborate further than that, however, even though she strictly planned to. Besides, Kurama already had his first clue before he even stepped foot in his school.

It was those demon insects—flocking around like common mosquitos and perching on the shoulders of unsuspecting people.

Kurama wasted no time in crafting a phony yet believable excuse to his teachers so he could leave in the earnest after that. And sure enough, even the principal easily gave him quick permission. His mother might question him afterward, aware that the school might contact her to inquire about his sudden leave, but he paid no heed to that concern and tucked it away to deal with later.

And _that_ concludes his morning escapade.

Somehow, it all fell sparse to what was happening now.

Here he was—bleeding with a slowly recovering injury on the sidelines—watching no other than Kuwabara Kazuma in facing the latest Saint Beast to appear.

' _Byakko,'_ Kurama frowned, jaw tight as his eyes followed the exchange of attacks in utmost precision. Byakko was a white tiger of looming size and bulk with a mane of mossy green hair in addition to his shaggy pelt. The tiger had simply pulled four strands of his hair, blew youki onto it, and created four hideous monsters salivating for Kuwabara's flesh.

Yes, Kurama certainly didn't expect it this morning. Nor did he expected to have his stomach cut open—again.

' _Quit your whining.'_

Amused, dark lashes lowered shut for a moment, inhaling in a shallow breath to control his taut concern for their ginger comrade.

' _My apologies. What are you doing in my thoughts, Hiei?'_

Beside him, aloof and weary towards the battle unfolding before them, Hiei sent him a casual glance, as if he expected the redhead to know the answer already. The cool composure the fire apparition carried in himself was almost a mockery to their current predicament, but Kurama knew otherwise.

Hiei wasn't fond of what he was seeing too.

"Stop being a stubborn shit, Kuwabara, and let me handle this!" Yusuke advanced, dangerously teetering on the edge of the floor. Byakko had done quite the extensive damage on the castle by the intensity of his roars alone—pillars crumbled into pebbles and half of the floor peeled off to fall into the unknown.

One of the monsters clawed at Kuwabara's arm, nearly lancing the ginger's limb off if he hadn't moved in time. Even so, Kuwabara was hit, and the agonized yelp doubled when another tried to bite off his leg.

"Argh!"

"KUWABARA!"

Amusement gone and wiped clean, Kurama clenched a fist to his side—swiftly studying for an opening within the group of monsters piling around a mere human. He had to help somehow, nevermind Kuwabara's rounded pride.

 _'Standing about is useless, Kurama. The fool's going to get himself killed.'_

As much as Kurama disliked judging the detective's friend, Hiei was right. One human—psychic or no—cannot mow through four burly monsters the size of a well-grown cow with his inferior swordsmanship.

Despite his worry, Kurama managed a sly smirk towards the Jagan Holder. _'Concerned, Hiei?'_

' _Hardly,'_ Hiei visibly scoffed. _'But this isn't going to our favor.'_

Kurama let his smirk fall with a glare. _'I know.'_

' _The woman from earlier,'_ Hiei continued, scowling as Kuwabara carelessly swung his sword in an arc once more—a vain attempt to hold the monsters off as one simply waddled to the left whilst the others jumped to evade harm.

 _'She mentioned something about the tiger's stomach. What did she mean by that?'_

At the mention of their earlier conversation, the concern for Kuwabara's welfare in Kurama's eyes hardened into ambivalence for the said girl in question, her name causing the redhead to become unsettled—stomach queasy with distrust yet tinged with undeniable interest.

Seeing the look in the fox's eyes, Hiei confirmed his guess. _'You do know her.'_

Insightful as always.

Kurama chose to hold back reprimanding Hiei for the tone he used—a tone meant to insinuate something more. _'_ _We've met, yes. But I hardly know her except for her name. I just didn't expect for someone like her to be associated with Yusuke.'_

It was true. He truly didn't.

But pondering on the thought now, Kurama concluded that it was not surprising at all.

All the strange things in their town were somehow connected to the detective.

' _Whatever their relationship is is hardly my concern,'_ Hiei blinked his gaze back to the fight (if he could call it like that), letting the fox settle his own perception. _'My concern is her message. Did she come to know of the tiger?'_

Flicking his gaze back on the fight as well, Kurama set aside his judgment for now. It would not do to have his attention wane. _'My guess is as good as yours.'_

' _Perhaps she is another one of Reikai's_ _spies.'_

' _Hardly. Botan doesn't recognize her.'_

' _That may be, but the ferry girl doesn't know all of her boss' secrets either. And I'm not talking about the walking diaper.'_

At the thought, Kurama couldn't deny that it would be a very big possibility, yet at the same time, the idea sounded far too farcical in his mind. Too unrealistic.

Too. . . simple.

Lan, judging from their first and only meeting as of yet, appeared too secretive to be working under an organization that pries secrets. And if she does, then he had misjudged her enigma.

However, he also couldn't disregard a chance like that. After all, she appeared recently after his cross with the detective—and she's there in the human world to help. _Right on time._

It was a possibility, and yet Kurama couldn't place a concrete enough proof nor word to support it. All he could provide to succor his claim of her innocence was the memory of her honest eyes from yesterday—challenging against his own, yet raw and synonymous to the words she uttered.

Eyes that bore no deceit.

' _That may be,'_ Kurama inwardly pushed such thoughts away, mindful of the fire apparition's telepathy. _'But we cannot haste in assumptions. What we do need to know is what she meant by Byakko's weakness.'_

Hiei made no answer, yet the weight of his gaze told thousands.

Before them, Yusuke finally had enough. Kurama watched, brows knitted as the detective forced his legs to remain still.

"Kuwabara! Just switch places with me, okay?! Let _me_ handle this! KUWABARA!"

"Switching places wouldn't do, if I were you," molten eyes lazily drifted towards the direction of the detective and Byakko scoffed, crossing his hefty arms over his chest. "It's best to come to me as a group. Saves all of us the time."

His blatant ridicule earned him glares. A furious combination of blazing browns, intense greens, and threatening reds.

It was enough to pull the grin wider on Byakko's snout. "Amusing."

Back on the battlefield, Kuwabara set his feet firm, shoving away the group of monsters with a force behind his swing greater than his previous ones. With his lips pulled back and eyebrows creating a bridge of lines in between, he whirled around to face Yusuke instead—his rage solely leveled towards the latter.

"YOU BETTER BACK OFF RIGHT NOW, URAMESHI!"

Yusuke recoiled, his voice momentarily stolen.

Satisfied at rendering Yusuke silent, Kuwabara shifted to face his opponent once more, fingers flexing around the grip of his sword.

"I'm not going anywhere until I take the bastard with me, you understand that?! I'm not switching with Hiei or Kurama, and especially not with you!" Pausing from his speech, Kuwabara had to return his full attention back before him—leaping away just as two monsters hurled themselves towards the space he was on a second ago with a definite chomp of their jaws.

"If you even try to switch places with me, Urameshi—" Kuwabara continued with a snarl, throwing a heated glance over his shoulder that was enough to send his message clear. "—Don't even doubt that I won't shove my sword through your chest instead."

Mouth uncharacteristically dry, all Yusuke could do was a nod.

Kuwabara had half the intention to crack a smirk at the loony face Yusuke was making, an action that would no doubt diffuse the tension too. However, before he could follow on his thoughts, their short exchange was interrupted by yet another one of Byakko's guffaws—deep and stirred from the depths of his gut that still threatened to quake the whole castle.

"You? Kill me?" Byakko snorted, a tip of his fang glinting with his grin. "You're too idiotic to even think that you can achieve that!"

Kuwabara's sneer was an answer enough for the tiger.

An unexpected response, and uncharacteristically unnerving too.

What stood before Byakko was far from the face of a prey, and that alone reminded the demon too much of unwanted images—stark and vivid in his mind's eyes that tore open old wounds.

A sniggering reminder towards his greatest humiliation.

"Fine," tongue sour at the aftertaste of such defeat, even if it had been centuries ago, the tiger waved a nonchalant paw towards his monsters with a scoff. "Take his limbs, and the others' too. Just leave the head and body for me to eat."

With the morbid merriment gone, Byakko lifted a corner of his lip in a show of disgust.

He would not be made prey again.

"He's boring me already."

The monsters didn't take long to respond.

* * *

Five.

That was the current number of whistles.

Five.

Burrowing her irk with a bite of her tongue, Lan frowned at the immediate noise of buzzing insects, preoccupied with the group of infected humans she was currently facing.

Five.

She could very well guess the ulterior motives behind this one, no matter how domineering it would make her seem.

She scowled.

The thin rod of carbon steel became nothing but a wheezing blur—a whimsical gray rotation handled by deft fingers hastily maneuvering in earnest; each slice cutting through the space of air with a subtle piping noise.

The steel was at least six feet long, the touch cool and slippery enough for her to ease her grip, twist her wrist just so, and build enough momentum to drive the opposite end straight to the gut of an infected person. Her move elicited a mangled choke and gasp of pain.

Nonetheless, she wasn't finished. Not yet.

Far from it.

There's still too many.

Her right hand followed after her strike, middle and index finger at ready, and struck that open moment towards his chest. The insect flew out, probably following the gush of puffed air from its winded host, hovering not too far in dizzy circles.

Rolling the rod in her grip, Lan twirled the steel to stand vertically erect in her grasp then swung in a sideward arc, squishing the insect harshly on the wall it caught.

She didn't stay to check if it's gone. She just knew.

There's still more.

"Fifty-two," planting the rod down with both hands gripping its length, Lan twisted her hips and let her legs fly, balancing into a full mid-air split kick. A snap of her ankle on one's jaw followed by another snap of her left ankle onto another's shoulder this time.

"Fifty-four."

The snarls grew louder and higher in pitch as aggravation began to coil their muscles taut. Each white-knuckled grip on their random weapons insinuated a torrent of raining jabs and swipes, eager to drive it deep beneath her skin. Bloodthirst pumped their brain to yearn for her blood the more she deflected, unable to pass through her defensive maneuvers with the use of a steel rod as a staff.

There was too much. Way too much.

 _'Damn.'_

"Fifty-five!"

Their increase in intensity made Lan flurry her own movements, the steel becoming nothing but a silver gleam beneath the sun as she wielded it left and right—altering from either hand to time a series of swift turns and swings that rendered more and more infected people falling unconscious on the cold concrete.

"Fifty-six. Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine. Sixty!"

With a cry, Lan shrugged away the hand that managed to fist her sleeve, deciding to shadow the act with a slap of her steel rod on the pesky appendage. Then she shot forward—index and middle finger extended once again—and struck the woman's chest. She didn't wait for any reaction and let her fingers coil back, drifting her hand up to the woman's mouth.

Gripping the woman's unhinged jaw with her outstretched palm blocking the mouth stirred something burning within Lan at the familiar hold, screaming and desperately scraping towards the surface. But when she felt the rough yet slimy texture of the insect against her open palm, she buried the nagging shadow at the back of her mind once again.

Knowing fully well it would screech later.

She crushed the insect.

"Sixty-one."

Succumbing to old instincts led her to act like a shell of her old self, barreling down the weak defenses of possessed humans akin to melted butter. She didn't think with each deliver of her kicks and twirls of her staff. Then if she could, she'd force the insect out of their system and relinquish the split-second relief of diminishing their number.

She was moving way before she could concur a thought.

"Sixty-six!"

A hook kick to her left made her avoid the baseball bat before it fell on her head. An open palm strike to her right met rigid jaws, effectively halting the glinting pair of shears meant to gnash her shoulder.

Oh, she wasn't worried about anything gnashing nor tearing through her skin.

She just thought the pain would be menacing to deal with later.

 _'_ "Sixty-eight!"

How long has it been? Two hours? Three?

An unconscious glance over her shoulder saw that the sun was beginning to bore with the day and started inching its way down, and with it came the first stirrings in the pit of her stomach, brewing the familiar flipping of premonition. The possibility of something worse made the itch to accompany the detective return in Lan.

Should she have urged the ferry girl to take her to Yusuke before?

Shaking the thought out of her mind, Lan brought the rod over her head. A soft gust of wind blew from the way she was twirling the rod with new vigor, ultimately creating a defensive wall of snapping steel as she charged, easily switching her hold from left to right, high and low—angled or slanting. As her feet led her forward, her direction and position switched followed by graceful adjustments.

"Seventy-seven."

Surely, Yusuke was nearly done with his quest? It has been a while since she had talked to him. The boy and his compatriots should have dealt with the brunt of those Saint Beasts by now. He had a part-demon in his group—a fox, at that. Lan had never encountered one whose strength far outshone her own back in the apex of her power, but their witty manipulation was always the key to their victory.

A bit mischievous, really, but she knew that fact and hoped that Shuichi—Kurama, whoever he is—harnessed that in prime conditions. Kuwabara (whom Genkai noted once to her was a natural in many ways) has far too much left in his arsenal to be explored, nor did he weather the same strenuous training Yusuke did. To put it simply, Lan just didn't deem him ripe enough to handle a situation such as this, but what could she do? He's already with Yusuke.

All she hoped was that he would understand her little hint, even if they were still—technically—strangers to each other. By all means, Lan was aware of her vague indication, but it was all she could provide without rousing the suspicions of Botan. However, even if the human did manage to understand her underlying meaning, tiger demons were quite notorious for their stamina. All she gave was a meager hint for a weakness, not a direct way to defeat him. Not to mention the deadly technique Byakko wields; the Meiko Shokai-ha. A furious shock wave of energy crumbling anything it hits into dusty particles.

After all, if her memory serves her right (and they always do), Lan could still recall the slight to her indifference at the fact that the tiger just refused to die. A foolish, begging weakling, yet life just won't release its fingers on him and allowed him to escape her clutches.

Snapping the rod in a fierce arc, Lan hurried forward, knocking off five deranged humans in a quick series of twirling staff far too quick for any to catch, cutting off the memory with a clench of her jaw.

"Eighty-two."

Kuwabara was none of her worries now. The detective was well with him.

Her job remains here.

Counting—while seemingly fatuous—helped her focus and fan away any stray thoughts about Yusuke's situation. As much as she could, anyways. In any case, it gave her a distraction. Away from the worry egging her mind and the simmering panic that gloved her at being near someone of Reikai _._

It gave her something to dwindle down the shadows nagging her conscious.

"Eighty-three. Eighty-four. Eighty-five."

The rod cut through the air in a clean swipe before her action halted abruptly, the end touching the concrete in her crouch hold. In a flourish, she rose, surveyed the area, then turned away.

She was done here. An alley of piled limbs stretching along, beneath or on top of another—some propped uncomfortably on the faded walls. A surreal picture ignored by the sun rays glowing their paling complexions anew. Initially, her conscience called her to at least leave them in contented positions. But that was at the beginning.

Now, time calls for her to catch up.

Discreetly jogging herself out of the alley, the rod was freed from her grip, left to stand against a garbage can under the conscious thought of appearing conspicuous. Leaving it was done with reluctance, but Lan could not risk grabbing any uncalled attention from humans due to her carrying a steel rod way past her height. The only consequence she would pay was to return to fighting with her bare hands again. Against fleets of angry infected humans, she would have to rely on spontaneity.

The next street Lan came to was almost deserted, houses void of inhabitants no doubt occupied with work. There were a few, but not so alarming that she'd risk exposure with demonic activities.

Briefly, the thought of Botan's well-being passed through Lan's mind. The girl was a friend of Yusuke's and one that Lan wished of having no interaction with, but she garnered that the detective would worry. He had shown that when he saw the ferry girl safe.

Nodding to herself, Lan decided to pass by the area she had appointed the spirit girl to patrol later. All she had to do was remain unseen while she ensures the girl's safety from afar.

A simple enough task without neglecting any of her worries.

Running a hand tiredly through her locks, unknowingly allowing a glimpse of the cursed mark on her forehead before the fringe flopped back down, Lan sighed to herself. _'I'm becoming the boy's errand lady.'_

She wondered what would have happened if she chose to sit idly by with Genkai. Unknowing and lax in her estate, a round of shogi or two with a plate of steaming mantou to dip into sweetened milk. A regular day shared between them.

Lan almost regretted to omit a day like that just to satisfy screaming questions in her mind. Almost.

The thought shrunk when her ears caught the growl of yet another infected, the sound not too far from where she was standing. In reflex, her eyes swiveled towards the direction of the noise.

She froze.

"Help!"

A rather stout man was impishly pulling on a burgundy strap of a bag belonging to a woman—a sane one, at that. He yanked, nearly bringing the woman to her knees if she hadn't dug her feet firm onto the ground, but it made her drop the bag full of groceries on one hand, resulting to a carton of shattered eggs, spilled milk and scattered flour to litter around. Lan assumed that the woman must have been en route to her home after purchasing until the deranged man intercepted her path.

"Stop!" The woman cried, gasping when the man suddenly moved in a speed unexpected due to his bloated belly. Seemingly out of thin air, the man brandished a gangly knife high above his head.

The woman lost all color in her skin. "Please! HELP!"

Lan moved, abandoning the need to shun exposure on her behalf at the sight of a blade. In a blink of an eye, she had gone from a field's distance away—

—and appeared next to the human to stop the stab meant to pass through her eye with her palm.

"Move!" Squishing within the space between the two, Lan snatched the man's wrist fisting the strap of the bag, curling and digging her nails tighter and tighter until he released with an incensed snarl, yet she did not drop her hold. The quiet, almost muffled gasp behind her caused Lan to flinch, knowing that the woman's gaze would be zeroed in on the way she caught the blade with her bare hand.

The action itself would inspire quite the shock.

The fact that no blood was spilled instilled another.

Fear _._

 _"What—"_ The woman wasn't able to finish, a shriek tearing out of her throat when Lan switched her grip on the sharp end of the blade until she was clutching the length of it akin to holding a hilt. With a pull, she stole the knife and jabbed the blunt end of the blade in the middle of the man's gasping chest. The worm was choked out then and there, its wings twitching and tail curling at the sudden rejection.

"Oh my!" Staggering backwards, the woman recoiled in shock at the brutal strike, hands flying to cover her trembling lips in reflex. She watched, knees locked in horrifying shock as her gaze swallowed the violent strike to the man's chest.

With a choked gurgle, the man fell to his knees, unconscious.

Lan released the blade with a dull clatter. Loosening her grip on the now unconscious man's grip, she gently pried his fingers off the woman's bag, ignoring the way the limb dangle with a subtle twitch to her growing frown.

She was well aware of the eyes trained on the back of her head, even as she slid one arm of the man's over her shoulder. Fraught, and tentative, Lan finally turned to face the distraught woman she rescued, her second rescue for the day.

She also hoped this would be the last. Ever.

Lan halted, fingers consciously flinching at the clear terror riddled deep within the woman's dark eyes. They were murky with apprehensive gratitude, not knowing whether to be grateful or remain shaken in fear in front of another threat that could very well harm her more than the infected man could.

The thought of hurting her made Lan sour a little. She knew she would never, but she also knew it was best for her to remain minimal interaction with anyone. The suspicion always gets to her. And truthfully speaking, even Lan herself doesn't trust her own hands to remain guiltless forever.

Unfortunately, her change of facial expression seemed to frighten the woman even more.

"D-Don't come near," the woman shivered, lines and wrinkles appearing on her delicately aged face with how much she was shaking.

An intense wave of shame blanket Lan's bare shoulders at the way the woman cowered a little. She wanted to drop her gaze, lower in submission if need be. But she couldn't.

Not when she recognized something seeded deep within the woman's eyes—like catching a fleeting picture from afar. Recognized, yet unidentified.

Subconsciously, her nose took a quick inhale.

"Who are you?" The words wobbled yet held firm to shield her fear. That much was clear to Lan, but she was too shocked to answer.

Anxiety churned her stomach when she caught a whiff of the familiar garden scent cloaking the woman like a protective blanket.

* * *

' _He's. . .bigger up close.'_

Sweat following down the quiver of his jaw, Kuwabara tried to quell the fear engulfing his heart—ignited when he craned his neck to meet the hungry gaze of the white tiger. The beast's physique was unbelievable as grey eyes took in the thickness of the tiger's short muzzle housing hostile teeth, lingering towards the tautness to his nonexistent neck and the roundness of his shoulders—hulking and bunching chains of corded muscles.

When Byakko flashed a grin, bouldered chest expanding at his inhale, Kuwabara allowed one tiny tremble that raked each joint of his spine.

Shaking his head, the ginger stilled himself with a mental smack to the head and brandished his Reiken with gusto, allowing his energy to flare his sword bigger.

 _'Just stick to the plan,'_ chancing a quick glance over his shoulder, Kuwabara imprinted the wash of anxious concern in Yusuke's eyes into the forefront of his mind. One that's probably due to his foolhardy fighting.

Still, he absorbed that look as his pillar.

Kuwabara wouldn't lie to himself. There was simply no use.

He was terrified.

Their goal was to save their city and everyone in it. His sister, his friends. . .

Everyone.

He _has_ to.

Kuwabara knew he was far from the strongest, nor the smartest. But _goddammit_ Kuwabara Kazuma would never go down without a fight and he wasn't about to do so now. He has to do this so that Yusuke can defeat the boss (as was his job entails).

Hiei be damned.

Bending his knees in preparation, Kuwabara tossed away all doubts about his loose plan and gritted his teeth to expel his fear.

"I don't care who you are, kitty," he scoffed. "But Eikichi's a million times better than you could ever be!"

He charged.

Behind them, away from the perimeter of the fight, Hiei haughtily cocked his head as he slanted a look towards the detective's profile.

"Who's Eikichi?"

For once, Yusuke has no answer. "N-No one."

Intrigued, Hiei shot a quick glance towards the redhead next to him.

Kurama didn't bother to hide the cheeky aversion of his gaze. _'_ _Curious, Hiei?'_

 _'I won't even dare.'_

Lowering his head at the incensed tone, Kurama let his lips curl with the burn of his amusement, shattered only when Byakko's aggravated growl punctured the temporary pause in their tension.

Dark lashes fluttered. A hand twitched and a brow crooked.

Before them, Kuwabara continued his approach—slash, parry, slash, stab, more energy. With the fatigue clear in the droop of his eyes, he pushed onwards.

It was repetitive. A cycle with no heed for adjustments nor care.

Slash. Parry. Slash. Stab.

Kurama licked his dry lips, following every clash of movement that drawled one-sidedly. Painfully one-sided, in fact. A rock lodged itself in the base of his throat the longer he watched the scene unfold before, his frown rigidly deepening the more Kuwabara's stifled gasps of pain reached his hearing.

Slash. Parry. Slash. Stab _._

 _'What are you doing Kuwabara?'_

Slash. Parry. Slash.

 _Stab._

All at once, Kurama saw the pattern become visible before him, akin to the ripple of water stilling to offer clarity.

He clenched one hand into a fist. "I see it."

In an instant, the fox had the detective's focus in a snap of his brown gaze.

"What is it?" Yusuke questioned with a furrow of his eyebrows.

Flitting his heavy gaze to meet Yusuke's, Kurama forced the words passed his dry tongue.

"Kuwabara is actually helping Byakko."

Yusuke blanched, lips parted and jaw hanging, his disbelief stark to both Hiei and Kurama.

"What do you mean?"

Encouraging Yusuke with a gesture of his head towards the battle, Kurama kept his reserves to himself.

"Look."

Doing as what the redhead commanded, Yusuke brought his attention back to the fight, catching just in time as Kuwabara made another swipe at the tiger's legs, then another powerful slice to block himself in time from the tiger's claws. Taking that opportunity, Kuwabara drove the end of his sword at Byakko's gaping mouth, yelling and shouting profanities as he does so.

Yusuke would have cheered at the cool moves if the growing fatigue the ginger was showing wasn't so obvious—punctuated by the buckle of the latter's knees. The idiot was getting weaker as the seconds ticked by, the strain in his movements becoming visible with each stagger he gave.

It wasn't as if his hits actually mattered. If anything, Byakko's only gotten bigger and wider—

Breath caught, Yusuke snapped his focus back to the redhead with pupils blown wide.

"He's—"

"Yes," Kurama nodded, eyes grave as he too returned his attention back to the ongoing battle. Still observing, still looking for an opening.

He just hoped that Kuwabara knows what he was doing.

But as it was, Kuwabara himself was beginning to doubt his initial idea. Despise it, even. Call it what you will. But he knew that his growing trepidation could not change the situation, not even a whisper of a chance.

Dwelling on bitter emotions would not do him any better.

The slapping reality was right there, laughing at his face; teeth sharp and yearning to be sunk into his flesh, and a whole a lot bigger. Fatter.

How much more?

How much more. . .

Unwillingly, Kuwabara froze. _'Shit.'_

Byakko rumbled a deep chuckle in his throat when the ginger did, a hand lazily caressing the round of his stomach.

"You look a little pale, human," he grinned. "Are you sure you can handle this? I don't bite. Much."

Kuwabara resisted the urge to stomp his feet indignantly, feeling his patience snap at the comment and the reckless laugh the tiger gave after.

But he was right. The energy was leaving his limbs in a gust. All there was left was the comfortable torpor hugging his limbs.

"Damn you," grinding his teeth, Kuwabara peevishly wiped the sweat that peppered his forehead. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd pummel you."

"You'd what?" Byakko dared, a hand cupping a twitching ear. "Sorry, I can't hear your weak voice. And to think you were so loud earlier. . ."

Patience snapped, Kuwabara straightened with a flourish. Without thinking, his hand ushered yet another sword, the orange flaring just as his anger and with a yell, he leaped towards the tiger—swinging his sword in an attempt to slice the demon in half.

His hit landed, as was expected. Byakko never did cower nor shy away from his vicious swings. He relished in it.

Kuwabara fully expected that—that was the plan he was going with all along.

It was a gamble he was willing to pay. But how long?

 _'How much more?!'_

Rolling to the side after his attack, Kuwabara was brought down to his knees—extremely weakened, wounded and panting with fervor. Glancing at his hand, he realized with a quick intake of breath, that his Reiken was nothing but an excuse for a dagger.

He was finished.

"I'd pity you if you weren't my food." Byakko neared, intentionally shooting a feral smirk at the detective overhead.

Kuwabara clenched his jaw. "I should be the one pitying you."

Pausing, the tiger arched a brow. "Oh?"

Raising his head, fallen strands of orange emphasizing the smug glint in his eyes, Kuwabara tried to push himself to a stand once more despite his shaking knees.

"There's four of you. That ugly one, Genbu? He had some good skills, better than your lazy tactics. You guys are all trapped in here but he can go in and out. Pretty useful." Finally finding balance in his liquid limbs, Kuwabara tipped his chin to meet the growing irksome gaze of the tiger, and despite the screaming fatigue weighing his arms akin to an anvil, he concentrated his energy on his right hand once more.

"The other two left are probably stronger than you. So what's your place? All a cat do is eat and is sleep. So that settles it." Raising the lengthened sword in his grasp, Kuwabara finished with a grin. "I should be the one pitying _you_."

How much more?

. . . Just a little bit more.

From the sidelines, Yusuke clenched his fists to rid of the urge to wring the ginger's neck. His words were not helping his death sentence at all! "Are you really sure about this, Kurama? Maybe there's something else."

Kurama parted his lips to answer, yet the response that came wasn't from him.

"There is a way."

Frowning, Yusuke looked over his shoulder to see Hiei watching the ginger, arms languidly crossed as he regarded the detective carefully.

"It's a suicide mission, but there is a way," eyes falling close, the fire apparition craned his neck to the side. "And I think the fool knows it."

Sensing the confusion written all over the detective's face, Kurama delved further. "Look closely, Yusuke. Byakko has not grown for a while now, and that could only mean that he may have reached his limit."

Taking a step forward, Hiei set his eyes firmly rooted on Yusuke alone with a narrowed glint.

"Do you remember that woman's hint from earlier?"

"You mean Lan? She said something about a tiger's stomach. What about it?"

 _'Ignorant fool.'_ Scowling, Hiei backed away. "Yes, but her specific words were that a tiger's stomach isn't as strong as it seems," he nodded towards the direction of the hulking tiger. "Byakko has reached his limit. It will take a little more until he combusts."

Yusuke turned towards Kurama, a sheepish grin stating his apology. "Elaborate a little?"

Kurama chuckled, both at the detective's grin and at the quiet grunt from the fire apparition behind them. "What Hiei meant was, Byakko's eating Kuwabara's energy. But if we were to adhere to Lan's advice, then we could say that despite his appetite, Byakko could only intake much before he experiences a stomachache. And when he does, it would be his end. However," his voice drifted, uncertain with his next words. "It could also cost all of Kuwabara's energy."

A suicidal act.

Swallowing the sudden fear, Yusuke opted to remain optimistic, battling the doubt in his mind as he put his faith onto Kuwabara.

 _'He can do it.'_

With another cry, Kuwabara met Byakko's approach, sword at ready, and when the tiger drew near, he pushed most of his sword's length into the tiger's open mouth once more.

"Ack!" The light drained from Kuwabara's hand as he crumpled, unable to retaliate as Byakko let out a victorious roar.

"You humans really don't learn!" Caressing his full stomach once more, Byakko picked up Kuwabara by his collar with his free hand. "You should have realized by now that your energy does not only feed my appetite but gives me strength too! What a fool!" Chuckling in mirth, the tiger shook the human in his grasp to heighten his amusement, grin widening at the dizzy yelps he evoked.

 _This_ was a more befitting image to see. "I would never fall beneath the level of prey ever again."

Kurama blinked. _'Again?'_

"But, I should thank you for your stupidity," Byakko continued. "You have more energy than I expected. Too bad it's not unlimited, you warmed my stomach. . . Guess I'll just have to devour you whole."

Pulling Kuwabara closer to his face, Byakko feigned a regretful shrug before unhinging his strong jaws; mouth opening and lips curling back in preparation for his snapping teeth. Giddy at the thought of his awaiting meal. Too giddy that he failed to notice the panicked call of the detective afar.

Too giddy to notice the hand that shot forward to punch his nose with a dagger of reiki _._

Byakko screamed at the pain, hands flying to nurse his twitching nose as his eyes burned. In turn, Kuwabara was released, landing in a heap of jelly limbs.

"YOU!" Angered, Byakko glared at the snickering ginger. "YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT!"

Snapping his leg forward, the tiger sent the ginger skidding all the way across their battleground.

Pain bloomed at the base of his spine from the impact.

"Kuwabara! You okay there, pal?"

 _'What does it look like?!'_ Tasting the blood smeared on his lip, Kuwabara immediately pushed himself back to stand. Hissing at the ache splitting all over his body, grey eyes took in the tiger's bloated appearance, noting that from his last attack, he didn't grow.

Only grew wider. Fatter.

Finally.

Relieved, Kuwabara pulled from his reserve, releasing all his energy into one flaring light of a sword one last more. "I'll end you now, kitty."

Kuwabara waited for Byakko to near, raising his sword just in time to block the blow the tiger meant to slice his head clean off his neck. The force made Kuwabara buckle his knees, teeth grinding as his elbows shook at the dragging strength, yet the gleaming claws glaring straight at his eyes gave him the needed motivation to push back, grunting with effort as he did so.

"Eat this!" Rearing both elbows back, Kuwabara took one long step—

—then he sunk the length of his sword all the way to the hilt within Byakko's turgid stomach.

For a second, silence gripped the battlefield in gurgled tension, an unanswered question running through clouded minds just as the wind blew away all of Kuwabara's energy—diminishing and fading as the last of its wisps dissolved into Byakko's body.

A second passed, then two. Byakko started chuckling.

A second more—Kuwabara's knees finally gave.

Another second, Kurama placed an arm to block Yusuke from going forward. He answered the detective's questioning glare with a simple glance towards the beginning of rumbling of Byakko's stomach, the latter's chuckles ceasing in panic as it swelled and deformed.

Kurama smiled. "It's over."

* * *

 **:)**

 **I would just like to announce that HONEY GARDEN HAS GONE THROUGH RECONSTRUCTION.**

 **Simple editing on my part. Life has been throwing rocks at me lately and while I itched to write for this story, bad luck has always delayed me. So, in order to refamiliarize myself (again) with Honey Garden, I reread from the very beginning.** **And I was so _shaken_. ****Truth be told, I have a tendency to always downplay my stories. While a friend of mine reassured me of its quality, every time I do read my work, it seems to fall flat to me. Maybe it's because I know what's laying next that it ruined the transition for me. The magic of surprise was gone and then everything begins to look too flashy or too plain.** **So I had to do some personal things to fix that. And now that I somewhat got it under control, I edited Honey Garden from the start just to smoothen the flow with my current style.** **It's all done now, but there might be a few mishaps that I may have missed so, feel free to point them out in the reviews and I shall fix it. Again, constructive criticism is always healthy for my development**

 **However, nothing too crucial was changed for you people to reread it. For newbies, then please disregard this. You're safe.**

 **Also, I'm not quite satisfied with the results of this chapter. . . I'll leave it up to you :)**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"Preparation Theme"_ by Yusuke Honma  
Arc soundtrack (Saint Beast Arc): _"Again"_ by Yui**


	10. Chapter 8

**a/n: I deeply apologize for the lack of update these past few months. I've been struggling with having two jobs plus school, though I have to confess, time management was usually a breeze to me. I've always been able to find a moment to write no matter how hectic the days become, but to be quite honest, I haven't been feeling quite well either. Negativity has always been tough to shake away, and it has been messing with the way I write too, because I can never seem to be satisfied with whatever outcomes I produced, which made me lethargic. I'm so sorry for the long wait, but I've managed to shake away the negativity this time and got myself breather. Hopefully, it stays.**

 **Without further ado, chapter eight! We're almost through with the Saint Beast Arc, everyone. :)**

 **Also. . . . . . . DOUBLE UPDATE! XD**

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **e|i|g|h|t**

* * *

 **THERE** was a moment of silence—a second of absolute stillness that drummed the tension in the air, singing nerves and shock into Lan's brain while it locks the fear into the woman's bones. Time itself wavered as the scent of the woman sunk deep into her head. Faint yet curling. Shy yet definite.

It was there.

Shock made way to agitation and with her lips suddenly dry, Lan dropped her gaze towards the unconscious body on the ground, prepped against the wall in a seemingly careless demeanor caused by bitter revelation.

She steeled her jaw, sour.

Why must _fate_ be so cruel to her whilst _coincidence_ made her its plaything?

Why.

"Who are you?" Came the question yet again, lower and softer without its previous steel. Ocean eyes lifted and dared to meet the woman's gaze yet again, guarded, but she didn't get the chance to answer.

The sound of frantic footsteps approaching made Lan snap out of her reverie, tearing her heavy gaze away from the frightened one of the woman's and effectively giving her the excuse to pay no heed to whatever it was the latter was going to say. Setting her eyes towards the direction of where the footsteps derived from, Lan took a subtle whiff, discreetly followed by a twitch of her ear just to confirm her suspicions.

The police.

 _'Good.'_

"Listen," straightening to her full height while raising both hands in a feeble attempt to calm the woman, Lan advanced. "Some people are on their way here. You will be safe with them, but I suggest you to secure yourself in a secluded shelter. The outside is not safe for now."

'Not safe' would be an understatement. Hadn't she heard the ferry girl mention how riots were beginning to rise with those human authorities handling it to the best of their abilities? Surely such news would be broadcast everywhere on television.

Doesn't this woman pay any attention? Or was she just unfortunate enough to be elsewhere when the announcement was made?

 _'That's none of my business.'_ Inwardly shaking her head, Lan settled back. Whatever the fox' human relative does in her free time was nothing Lan should concern herself about. She was just another human amongst the millions exhaling polluted air into the environment.

It doesn't matter if she saved Shu— _Kurama_ 's mother or not. She was still just another face.

Steeling that facade of a resolve, Lan turned to leave.

"W-Wait!"

The woman's hold on her hand came quick, akin to a snapping viper. A speed that surprised Lan in the slightest, coming from a human.

She curbed that surprise however, when she glanced over her shoulder and saw the look in the woman's eyes.

There was fear. A reaction so natural and dominant within human reflexes, but underneath it all were the lingering traces of worry and appreciation—deep and swollen that shadowed those dark gazes anew. And then behind those gentle hues. . .

Behind those, Lan felt the crawl of a spider's leg down her spine at the vulnerable gleam layering the woman's gaze. Like a lamb seeking for shelter, like a child searching for comfort. Lan was struck.

The woman was seeking for reassurance—from her.

 _From her._

It was a complete turn of events compared to the initial reaction that Lan did not know how to receive it.

"P-Please! I don't—I don't know what's h-happening, I—" she sucked in a harsh breath. " _My son is out there!_ "

Her son.

Lan blinked, absorbing the blatant worry and the ginormous abundance of that warm, _warm_ affection she could hear just from the woman's voice. The fear was thick in the air, a pepper to her sense of smell, and yet that was not what clogged her lungs.

Lan blinked—and she saw eyes similar to her own, yet different. Eyes that took on the very color of ice yet burns like the fiercest of all fires.

Lan blinked—and when she focused, this human was all she saw.

A mother.

"I'm sure your son is intelligent enough to avoid troubles. Trust me," Lan urged, daring a small smile to ease the woman's tension. "Do as I say and you will be safe. Everything will be over soon and you will see him at the end of it."

"OVER HERE!"

Her speech halted by the shout of a policeman, Lan took that as her cue to go. Then shifting her wrist under the woman's grasp, she instead gripped it with her own, squeezing her final—though halfhearted—comfort just to smooth away the woman's momentary stress. She couldn't do anything with the groceries, nor can she mend the tear on the woman's bag.

The squeeze was all she could offer.

Raking her gaze all over the woman's features, she couldn't deny how the rays of the sun made the human's dark tresses lighter.

She almost wished it was.

"You'll be alright." Giving her a soft smile, Lan dropped her hold on the woman's hand before she ran; away from the scene and disappearing without a trace before any witnesses could chance a glimpse of her. Even then, she was unable to stop herself from letting the human's cool gaze seep her worries.

She just had her first taste of utmost gratitude. A sweet and soothing taste that drowned away a smidgen of her stubborn insecurities.

For the first time, Lan had purposely saved an innocent and received gratitude. She asked for trust and she received a sliver of it.

It felt good.

Lan didn't notice the smile that crossed her features until her cheeks began to ache. An unusual but accepted pain.

She saved someone. Someone had touched her hand, gripped it with an iron hold without a trace of repulsion nor fear—and had sought comfort from her.

Needless to say, the feeling was more than welcoming compared to the familiar terror she would expect. But above all. . .

Lan couldn't quite shake away the mirror of someone else when she stared right into the woman's soul.

Rounding a corner, Lan switched back to her preferred speed, her toes bouncing with renewed vigor after her recent cross with the human, never mind the fact that she was the mother of that fox, as the latter's scent entails. Her hands caught fluttering demon insects here and there, cornering infected humans and freeing them from the virus within. For the first time since this morning, her mind was unbelievably clear—at ease despite the noise of skin bruising skin threatening to break the dam of old memories.

She wanted to believe it so because, in her mind's eye, she remembered those eyes again.

A mother. . .

Twisting the arm of an infected human behind their back, effectively forcing them on their knees to lock their movements, Lan readied her final jab. Decided and fixed, calm and precise.

Eased.

Yet all her composure came to a screeching halt when the familiar death song cried from the sky.

Lan froze in her tracks, neck snapping towards the heavens as the whistle played. The pitch grew awry, a mess of hasty notes that scratched her ears and clawed her spine. Then in a crescendo of madness, the melody swirled low and deep, yet it screeched with unhidden urgency.

Raging.

Behind the loom of tall roofs, a horde of demonic insects shadowed over everything, their wings beating with a distant buzz that dared to drown anything else. Anything, except for that dreaded whistle.

Lan sucked in a breath. _'I hope that Botan is seeing this.'_

Surely, a movement this paramount could not go unnoticed by the detective's assistant. The squealing screeches of those insects was enough cause reason to pull the ferry girl's attention out of any shed or hideout, if she ever was indoors at the moment.

"Yusuke. . ." brows puckered with worry, Lan wondered yet again as to how the detective was faring. The insects were flying overhead, heading towards one specific direction with their wings decidedly hasty.

Something must have happened in the Maze Castle to trigger this outcome.

* * *

The cool gaze of ironed blue glared at the round crystal ball hovering before him, watching as the detective along with his associates progressed through the right path behind the right door. His fists clenched at how effortless they seem to have done so, his irritation oozing out of his skin in a form of one electric current traveling down his rigid spine.

This has stretched way too far to his liking. The consecutive happenings both within his castle and within the human realm continued to hitch his plans again and again.

He sneered.

Admittedly, however, he was also impressed.

"They did well, for managing to pick the correct door." he mused, eyeing the human with hair of bright citrus in mild surprise. "I've never had the opportunity to welcome such eager guests so far into our abode. Sad how only two of the Saint Beasts are the only ones who could do so now."

His eyes fluttered closed, head tauntingly shaking as if to mourn for this unfortunate event.

From his side, hidden within the cloak of darkness, Seiryuu appeared with a well-mannered bow, sinking low to his knees as he regarded his leader with the utmost respect that he sees fit.

"No matter, Suzaku-sama," he began. "I shall eliminate them for you."

Suzaku hummed at the surety Seiryuu held in his voice, a tone he had all heard from the previous two as well.

It was beginning to lack promise.

"If you insist." Suzaku let his gaze waver, trailing from the crystal ball showing the detective, to the wide screen showing the state of the human world and the insects.

Specifically following every step of one enigmatic demoness.

Suzaku let a chuckle escaped him as the demoness stealthily tailed his insects' movements, pausing every now and then to swiftly swooped down an infected human and killing the insect within. At first, he was irked by her method, glaring and frowning at how deliberately she was stopping the possibility of an army he had originally planned. But the more he watched, the more he grew interested—taken with the clean grace she used to eliminate his insects, and in such quick precision too. On and on she went, her feet light and quick in each measure step; never pausing to linger, never allowing herself to falter and continued after each task with barely a breath to rest.

It was like witnessing the rush of a steady river. Fluid and persistent; moving like a soldier would—relentless with not a glance behind.

But, Suzaku noted with a delighted shiver, there was a chill to her method. A lethal sink of a finger dressed as a gentle and meek touch. Death-point Striking could be the deadliest of all techniques if one chose to improve it for torturous intent. Even he, himself (once rid the initial frustration with having his army decrease instead of increase) felt the yearning for such precision. A smooth and quick kill such as hers would do his cause better.

However, whatever ambition Suzaku had diminished the second he saw her save that elderly woman. Disgusted, he had to endure watching her wordlessly plea for appreciation from that lowly human like a child hanging onto its sucker; thinking she was so subtle in hiding, yet every ripple of that lowly emotion was taut in her body language.

The sight was a disgrace to all demonic race.

"Pity." With a scoff, Suzaku shook his head, his grip on his flute tightening at a talent well lost. What a pity indeed, the demoness could have done great things with such rare skill.

Seiryuu chose that moment then to rise to his feet, his attention zeroed in on the crystal ball instead of the screen.

"I'll make sure to end their parade, Suzaku-sama."

Suzaku merely hummed at the repeated vew, waving a careless hand as his eyes remained fixed on the demoness wrecking his plans on the human world. No matter, she would have to tire soon. As expected.

He would just have to savor toying with her from afar.

"Do what you must, Seiryuu."

* * *

The ornate doors that stood tall before them reached the dank ceiling up high with its heavy frame, painted with the smooth color of blue and gold. Gargantuan both in height and width, the heavy size could make any person feel tiny before its imposing presence, and judging by the proud dragon statues guarding either side of the double doors—frozen faces gnarled and uninviting—led Kurama and Hiei to know whose lair they were headed into next.

Such ostentatious display did nothing to impress nor intimidate Hiei. He sneered. "A door won't scare us."

"As it should be," Kurama agreed with a terse nod. "But that is the mark of the Blue Dragon. Theatrics like these would have been well-earned. We must thread carefully."

Hiei merely jutted his chin in defiance, not particularly agreeing nor disagreeing with the fox. He has heard of the Blue dragon—another legend in the Demon World. A common legend, truly. Nothing extensive nor something Hiei would interest himself about. He knew the name was associated with the Saint Beasts and whoever this dragon was had done much for the group's cause.

"This guy's fancy with his decorations." Yusuke's grumble was caught by Hiei. The latter didn't need to state that he agreed.

"Whoever he is, the energy coming from behind the doors doesn't feel nice at all." Said Kuwabara as an understatement, his earlier pride in leading them all to the right path successfully diminishing. Instead, a twinge of trepidation took its place, one normally that would render him with fear. But after his fight with Byakko, Kuwabara proudly stood tall. Cautious—but ready.

The doors suddenly cracked open, the friction evoking a sound akin to a grunt of thunder as a perfect slit formed right down the middle, letting through a cold puff of fog come out. They flinched, muscles rigid in par against the frightening energy from within. Immediately, they were slaughtered by the cold, sticking from each strands of their hair down to the nails of their toes.

Hiei followed closely behind the others, bearing through the cold without batting an eye. The fog was alive—that much he was certain, and the cold came from the famed Blue Dragon. Such excess power made Hiei set his mind.

This—with a smug smirk—would be his battle to take care of. Not that he has any choice, Kurama's injury made it impossible for him to exert too much. Especially in such a fragile, human body. Kuwabara was in no position to put himself in the same suicidal limelight as he did twice just moments ago. A complete idiotic move in Hiei's opinion, but it helped their job. Now, as much as Hiei was perfectly capable of handling the leader in his opinion, that was not his mission. Saving humanity was never in his to-do list.

He'll have to suffice with the detective finishing that task.

"I must say—" the fog oozed. "—I am very impressed by how far you all have come. Regretfully enough, I can no longer let you intervene any further."

The voice, low and riddled with sinister confidence, had Kuwabara scanning the vast room, his scowl deep and eyes squinted in an effort to see through the haze. "Where is he?"

Yusuku stepped forward, a wrinkle to his nose towards the fog. "Stop hiding and show yourself, coward!"

No sooner did the detective yelled out those words, Seiryuu appeared in a flourish of cold winds, slapping their faces with the freezing energy it gave off. The swirls of wind ended just as soon as it appeared, and Yusuke was left staring into sharp, golden orbs.

Seiryuu towered above them all with his nose stuck in the air.

Kuwabara took a step back, eyes widening at being dwarfed for once. "He's big!"

"No joke." Despite his dry comment, Yusuke frowned as Seiryuu stood before them, his chin tilted to stare at them beneath his nose like they were the very scum beneath his boots. Aside from the pale tinge of blue in his skin, the demon appeared to be a sage old man garbed in a cold blue Chinese attire. Then as reference to his title, a lone, icy dragon was sewn into his attire, coiled around his shoulders with the scales protruding in sharp angles akin to deadly icicles.

Yusuke narrowed his eyes, frowning and clenching his fists at the obvious glint of sure superiority in Seiryuu's eyes. A simmering, pompous self-assurance compared to Byakko and Genbu's vocal arrogance.

Without further thought, Yusuke tossed a glance towards Kurama just as the latter did as well, unable to deny their comparison from this demon to Lan. It wasn't simply because of the matching Chinese garb, but the way they held themselves with their chin up, shoulders squared and back straight gave them the impression of strict soldiers. Drilled to follow yet silent with authority.

While their interaction was sparse, Kurama could definitely see her impose such authority with a mere glance.

"I am Seiryuu," the demon took a step forward, hands stiff behind his back. "And I shall be your executioner."

"Well," Yusuke pursed his lips, not even bothering to lower his voice as he shrugged at the others. "He's one ugly dragon."

Hiei harrumphed at the detective's audacity.

The surge of malicious intent in the air was understandable. And yet, before anyone of them could comment more on Yusuke's wayward statement, Seiryuu flickered his attention behind them towards the door. He frowned in distaste. "It seems that we have an unwanted visitor."

Senses heightened, both Kurama and Hiei turned to look back at the door, spurred by the familiar odor nearing the room they were in. A second later, Kuwabara copied their motions, lastly mimicked by a confused Yusuke.

"No way. . ." Blanching in disbelief, Kuwabara swallowed the lump in his throat. He wanted to say something more, but the urge died when he saw the identical expressions both Kurama and Hiei wore.

It was impossible, but it wasn't.

Kuwabara swore under his breath.

For the second time, the door opened with a grating groan. This time being pushed from the other side with an impressive force.

Shocked, Yusuke sucked in a breath. "Byakko. . . no way."

Indeed, the white tiger appeared standing before them all; battered, singed and with barely a string of strength left to hold himself up. His once thick, striped fur appeared uneven, jagged and bald in some places that gave him a meek and smaller stature than he was earlier.

"S-Seiryuu," Byakko coughed, blood seeping through his canines and caking the fur around his muzzle. "I need your help."

Hiei gave an involuntary twitch of a brow, gaze narrowing into slits as the tiger stumbled his way towards Seiryuu, finding himself morbidly curious as to how the scene before them would unfold.

"Please," Byakko staggered, knees buckling underneath his weight. "Help me regain back my strength. . . T-The human tricked me in my lair."

Kuwabara glared.

Pausing just before his associate, Byakko continued with a promise in his voice. Desperate, pleading, but wanting to convince to be spared. His pride was stripped, his dignity dented as his knees nearly sunk to beg.

Just like all those years ago.

Byakko loathed that more than ever, the familiar grip of fear greeting like an old friend over his shoulder. Mocking and giggling at his weakness and for letting history repeat itself, but this time, the humiliation ran deeper—colder. Clutching his bones to rattle at the fact that this time, _this time,_ he wasn't defeated by a superior warrior. He wasn't hunted and toyed with by the grim reaper of the demonic race.

He was bested by a human.

Byakko seethed to himself, the cold within himself making him shudder. He hated to beg.

But he needed to live.

However, the only answer Byakko received was obvious within the glint in those molten eyes of Seiryuu.

He damned well sobbed, the fear clutching onto him tighter in glee. "No—"

"FOOL!" Losing his collected composure, Seiryuu raised his voice with authority, stilling the tiger's words and movements in wrath. "You dishonor the ideals of the Saint Beasts with your pathetic grumblings. You failed our master!"

Sneering at the tiger beneath his nose, Seiryuu moved into a stance, pulling back his right arm with his elbows bent at the waist. Feet apart, he twisted his torso to the side as his left arm stretched out, hand loosely aimed towards Byakko.

Hiei observed coolly, inwardly reprimanding Seiryuu for carelessly revealing of what seemed to be a trademark technique of his.

Caught in his unwavering heat of anger, Seiryuu's tight fist began to emit a blue glow, his energy rising as he narrowed his golden gaze at Byakko.

"Be grateful it is I who will end your fate," he paused, lips curling into a vicious smile. "Suzaku-sama may not be as merciful."

"No, Seiryuu! Please!" Stumbling, Byakko couldn't even disguise the betrayal in his voice. "I-I can help you destroy them! Please! _Seiryuu_ —"

In the end, Byakko didn't stand a chance.

Yusuke and Kuwabara watched, appalled by the sudden turn of events as Seiryuu—in a matter of fleeting seconds—threw his coiled arm and fist in a punch, sending a furious wave of icy energy that encased the hulking tiger in a statue of gleaming ice. Inch by freezing inch, the ice spread all over the tiger's body until the frost glazed over his anguished eyes.

"He. . ." Kuwabara slumped. "He froze him."

Without missing a beat, Seiryuu leaped high up in the air. The swift movement was followed by Hiei's eyes, crimson gaze narrowing as he watched—with a confusing sense of unadulterated displeasure—as Seiryuu decapitated the tiger's head with a fierce kick, the rest of the tiger's frozen body shattering into shards at the jarring action.

Like marble, Byakko's head rolled all over the floor, halting just before the four of them in a nonchalant lull, the light catching each frozen strands of his fur and the edge of his teeth.

Even in death, the state haunted them—all for an entirely different reason.

"You killed him," Yusuke deadpanned. "He's your friend, and you killed him."

Seiryuu jutted his chin at the comment, a frown wrinkling his collected demeanor. He looked like a piece of his patience fell, taking offense from something so humane.

"A friend?" He scoffed. "Surely you jest, detective. Byakko, like Genbu, is nothing but a weapon to the cause of the Saint Beasts." Pausing, he made a deliberate glance at Byakko's fallen head, disdain clear in his molten eyes at the stark anguish the tiger's face has frozen into.

Yusuke could only clench his fists, at lost for words with no witty comeback to toss back for once. Never did he think he would see something like this—a cruel detachment that death seemed nothing but a blink of an eye. He wasn't naïve—he knew the second he started taking in the role of this job that the demon race would be unlike any other. Yet from the few he encountered, this was the first he witnessed something heavy as trust would be equivalent to dust by others.

Seiryuu killed Byakko, a comrade. Killed him with no remorse nor a glance spared. Byakko pleaded him, had even _begged_ for forgiveness.

But Seiryuu butchered the tiger anyway.

Enemy or not, the logic failed to click inside Yusuke's head.

He stared.

"They have no care for camaraderie, Yusuke." The redhead muttered from behind, clenching the fist hidden inside his pocket. Kurama narrowed his eyes, a pool of veridian orbs darkening in scorn. His explanation wasn't needed, such display was common—and even approved—by most of his race. Yet for some reason, he just had to explain to the detective. For what it was worth, Kurama didn't know.

"I'll kill him." Yusuke gritted his teeth, reigning in his anger to no avail. Yet before he could even think of advancing, a single hand gripped the detective's shoulder in a vice.

A warning.

"Don't." Hiei said, his gaze fixed on Seiryuu alone. "Use that anger as an advantage when you're facing their leader."

After a simple blink, Hiei had his eyes trapped Yusuke's stare, challenging the latter to argue against a useless matter. This wasn't up for debate.

Not this.

Yusuke backed away, confused yet relenting.

"Hiei," he tried to call, but faltered, the words dying in his throat as the apparition rounded his side and took to the front.

Gripping his cloak, the fire apparition calmly pulled it off his person, leaving his chest bare to the rigid cold. Flicking the garment away, he let it fall to hide the tiger's head. Across the room, Seiryuu stood back, idly crossing his hands behind his back once more—a smug smirk in place of his permanent frown as he observed Hiei hide Byakko's head.

It was almost funny, considering that sympathy was never a definition to add beneath Hiei's name.

"How ironic," Seiryuu chuckled. "Of all the demons out there, I had high expectations that you of all wouldn't be affected by foolish sympathy, Hiei."

Undeterred, Hiei said nothing, even when the mockery in Seiryuu's eyes changed to one of utter displeasure. As an answer, he silently pulled his sword from his scabbard, drawing out a whistling _shing_ as his body moved to a stance; hilt clutched with both hands and shoulders carefully hunched forward.

Silent, Hiei called out a portion of his demonic energy.

Seiryuu shook his head akin to a parent scolding their child. Nonetheless, he readied himself into his own battle maneuver, letting his own energy come out in gelid wisps circling around him like a vortex. Though before either of the opposing sides could throw the first punch, Seiryuu took his time in recalling all the past information he and his master has gathered about the demons amongst the detective's crew: a fox-human hybrid who seemed to have secured himself with an alarming lack of background; a demoness left in the human world with an odd technique for battle; and then, there was Hiei.

Admittedly, Seiryuu had his interest had lied solely onto the Jagan wielder: a demon known for his blinding speed and sinister ways.

Seiryuu wanted those talent to be put into good use.

"Maybe we can come into an agreement, wouldn't you say, Hiei?" He smiled, lips thin with contempt as molten eyes sized the apparition up and down. "You may have declined our offer back at the Gate of Betrayal, but I assure you, it is never too late to change your mind."

Hiei provided no response, a thumb loosely pushing against the hilt of his sword to shift the end towards Seiryuu.

His lack of answer did not deter Seiryuu in the slightest. "Think about it. All you have to do is bow to my master and gain unparalleled power in return. Together, we can revive the title of the Four Saint Beasts and rule over the human world."

Hiei arched a brow. He wondered, for a brief moment, if Seiryuu—in his idealistic reverie—had forgone basic calculations. "You say four, but as far as I can recall, you lost two subordinates today."

"Ah, yes," Seiryuu smirked, eyes traveling back where the detective stood with clear amusement all over his features. "I've nearly forgotten, none of you are aware of the human realm's current state. At least, not fully so."

Kuwabara didn't even need to look to know when he grabbed a hold of Yusuke's arm, tugging back when the latter tensed at the grin Seiryuu aimed towards them. He wasn't the only one bothered, yet neither Kurama and Kuwabara wanted to convey how much the words grated their skin.

"My master has his eyes set on one of your errand girl back in the human realm." Seiryuu mused, recalling her terrifying, swift kills and imagining it being used into something far more violent. Her leniency towards humans may be a problem.

But it was not a problem that could not be fixed.

They wanted Lan and Hiei.

Yusuke stiffened, a growl growing within the base of his throat just as both Kuwabara and Kurama strapped on wary frowns, the former with his fists clenched in apprehension with the possibility of Hiei accepting.

But as for the apparition himself, Hiei exhaled a clipped scoff through his nose. "Are you finished?"

Seiryuu faltered, the smug glint in his eyes twisting into irritation. "What?"

"Are you deaf?" His sword tipped again. "I asked if you're finished with your final words."

The room temperature dropped to a degree, spurred by Hiei's taunt straight to his opponent's ego. Seiryuu snarled, features twisting into an unpleasant facade for being mocked.

"Very well," rearing his fist back, Seiryuu upped his fighting energy even more. "If that is your choice, die as a weakling."

With a fierce battle cry, Seiryuu released a torrent of raving youki, lurching like a tsunami that tore down the floor into chunks of measly concrete. Hiei made no move from his spot, not even daring an inch—his feet firmly rooted as he blocked the demonic energy with an angle of his sword. The torrent split into two by his blade and Hiei kept it up, straining the muscles in his arms as Seiryuu's energy sought to conquer him whole. When Hiei chanced a discreet glance over his shoulder, he saw that none of the three were unharmed from the blow.

The walls on either side of them, however, has taken the brunt of Seiryuu's attack, leaving a sizeable hole each.

"Watch it!" Kuwabara scolded, though he seemed to sag in relief when he saw Hiei was unharmed as well.

However, Seiryuu was far from done. Pulling back his fist yet again, he let his wrath take charge.

"Hiei, look out!" Yusuke called.

Hiei didn't need to be told, because as soon as Seiryuu delivered his attack, he was gone in a flash.

It didn't stop Seiryuu from doing it again.

And again.

And again.

With each throw of his ice wave, Hiei dodged and flipped, bouncing around the room in blinks and using the space to his advantage. He ran to whatever nook he could lurch onto, clinging even onto the walls and ceilings before he was gone again—teeth gritted behind a locked jaw to keep from attacking just yet.

Not yet.

He just had to wait for this moronic cat and mouse to reach its peak, and he'd slaughter Seiryuu—shove his narcissistic ideals into a blender as he reached his paltry death, and he'll know just how much of a fake his reputation is.

Seiryuu was never—and could never be—superior to him.

Soon enough, ice began to coat the room with each miss coming from Seiryuu, the floor glimmering with frost and rime in a thick layer. Without the proclaimed Blue Dragon even knowing, the state of the floor had helped Hiei in heightening his already impossible speed even further—each maneuver sliding him farther and quicker. Easier.

Hiei took that as his chance.

Angling himself just so, Hiei let his leg take a mild portion of Seiryuu's attack, instantly rendering the limb and his pant frozen. He fell to his knees, using his sword to balance himself as his leg became temporarily immobile. _'Good.'_

"Hm." Seiryuu grinned, unaware to Hiei's thoughts. "Do you think you can beg now?"

Hiei almost laughed at the humor of it all, yet he let Seiryuu inhale more of his conceited air. Let him think he was the epitome of dominance in this situation.

"Shouldn't you?"

Seiryuu's grin fell. Sneering, he reeled his fist back for the nth time. "You will regret this."

Hiei narrowed his eyes. _'Now.'_

Akin to an oar, Hiei pushed himself forward with the help of his sword, finally putting the floor's slippery substance into good use as he shot forward. He didn't care that ice began to slither along his limbs yet again. He didn't care when the chill threatened to freeze his blood dead. He didn't care.

Hiei didn't care.

And when it was all through, he finally let the laugh bubble out of his chest, the sound colder than the current room temperature itself.

Seiryuu turned to face him with a snarl, a scowl in place for letting the apparition escape once more. "What are you laughing at?"

Holding one arm coated with ice, Hiei jutted his chin, finally unfolding his legs to a stand, the fabric of his pants wet and steaming from the heat beneath his skin.

Seiryuu froze.

"Your simple ice tricks aren't enough to kill me," Hiei turned, patient as the first sign of blood oozed appeared from Seiryuu's chest. "Not even from the beginning."

* * *

Shards of crystalized glass rained down from the palm of one balled fist, each fragment glinting a shred of light within the darkened tower. Jarring and high-pitched—depicting the glare full of malice written all over Suzaku's face.

"Useless." He mumbled, flicking away the last remnants of the crystal ball in his hand. "You made such promise, Seiryuu. Yet even you has failed me."

Gone was his previous amusement for having such optimistic guests think they can roam around in his castle and seize them as prisoners. Gone was his languid patience for having subordinates to do his bidding. Gone was his mercy.

This has gone far too long.

Aggravated, all Suzaku could do was let his anger flow through his veins, lips pulled into an unappealing snarl as he settled himself to wait for the detective's arrival. Just the thought of a simple human ruining his plans rushed another wave of annoyance within him.

He growled.

As much as he enjoyed the challenge of the unexpected, Suzaku has little care for surprises. He loathed the way their presence can tip the dominoes into another direction than he wished. He loathed the thought that the group of demons he gathered were all so easily defeated by amateurs. He _loathed_ the fact that his army could never _be_ an army with a rodent sniffing them one by one.

"These fools!" his voice curled into a sneer, accompanied by the few crackles of lightning flaring down his arms in a frenzy.

With the crystal ball gone, Suzaku lifted his gaze back at the wide screen before him to survey the similar results in the human world. Even the demoness had ceased to be entertaining for him the longer he watched her take down the continuous onslaught of infected humans with not a single stutter to her pace. Although it was a different story with the other one—the clumsy girl of Reikai's—it wasn't enough to appease Suzaku in the slightest.

The Saint Beasts are perished and only he remains to continue its mission.

Another crack of lightning bristled down his torso.

Just then, Suzaku felt the approach

A ping of a familiar energy followed by the faint sound of beating wings reached his ears and Suzaku paused—neck craned and back straight as the noise grew stronger. Nearer.

Here.

 _'Murugu,'_ Suzaku closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose to calm his vexation. _'Just in time.'_

Appearing before him with a flap of her wings, Murugu—his trusted pet bird—landed by the cobbled window with a cheery chirp.

"I'm back, Suzaku-sama!" Murugu folded her wings, blinking wide, rosy eyes with a ruffle of her lime green feathers. The bird had no qualms in poking Suzaku's patience, giddy with the information she had and confident that her master would not harm a single green nor purplish feather on her.

She caught sight of the shattered glass scattered all over the floor and she blinked. "I take it our guests are still here?"

Suzaku scoffed. "Unfortunately, even Seiryuu could not hold onto his orders." Sighing in disappointment, he ambled patiently towards the bird. "I hope you would not follow their examples and disappoint me, Murugu. I am not in a forgiving mood at the moment."

The bird cackled with glee, her buttery beak clamming open and close in her shrill laughter. Suzaku's threats didn't faze her in the least.

"Oh, you would forgive me, Suzaku-sama!" Murugu flew in the room, soaring towards the screen where it currently showed the lilac-haired demoness decrease yet another number of the infected humans.

Murugu stilled, hovering for a moment as she glared. The bird had seen a glimpse of that demoness earlier, her irritation profound with how the latter was foiling her master's plans. The temptation to claw her eyes out or peck them out to bleed almost conquered Murugu's state of mind, but she refrained, bounded on the task she was sent to do in the human world (and because the demoness had briefly slid her gaze towards her direction, as if knowing Murugu was there and dared her approach).

Murugu shook away those thoughts and gestured a wing towards the screen.

"I have learned something for Urameshi Yusuke, Suzaku-sama." She said once Suzaku caught up with her. At her words, the screen dimmed, the sight of the demoness fading as another image slowly conjured itself from Murugu's findings.

Suzaku watched on with interest.

"It seems that the detective is quite the loner in his town, he has very little friends. But, among those stands to be his greatest weakness." The screen faded into the venue of the detective's school, but it didn't stop there. The images flickered and flickered, panning and searching until it finally focused on a single, empty hallway within the school. For a second, it was a still picture; nothing but the play of the sun casting gnarled shadows all over its bland walls.

Then all of the sudden, there was movement. Out from a door came one oblivious girl with her arms full of textbooks, the blue of her uniform darkened by the shadows until she began walking down the hall. She neared enough for the sun's ray to grace her features, and Suzaku could drink in the gentle fan of her lashes against pale cheeks.

"Her name is Yukimura Keiko," Murugu continued, giddy and proud as she flew to perch on Suzaku's shoulder. "She is apparently close to Urameshi Yusuke's heart."

Thoughtful, Suzaku hummed, the frown on his features slowly receding the longer he observed the girl. Unbearably plain, but notably attractive in human standards with her mousy brown hair and soft, petite stature.

Those doe eyes would prove to be quite marveling in her peak years.

"She does have a very pleasant face." Suzaku nodded to himself, pleased. He couldn't blame the detective for being smitten then, though if he was going to be painfully honest, this Keiko would be even more beautiful when bathed in her own blood.

"I guess so." Murugu giggled, bashfully hiding her beak with a wing. "But the idea is that Yusuke will do everything in his power to make sure she's safe."

The words that followed went unsaid, but understood anyways.

Yusuke was not there to protect the girl.

Now, with a smile gently tucking the corners of his lips, Suzaku raised the whistle back to his lips again. "Shall we put that to a test?"

Murugu cackled in agreement, but just as Suzaku was about to issue his next command, he paused.

"That woman would have to be detained as well."

Murugu glanced to her master, confused, but then stark realization dawned onto her wide eyes.

Of course.

 _Her_.

With a huff, Murugu felt the feathers along her spine ruffle. "Can't we slow her down?"

"I've already issued that order a while ago, remember? Just as I've commanded those insects to help you look for that detective's weakness." Suzaku pursed his lips, sour. That woman should be heavy with fatigue by now, sluggish and clumsy in even the slightest flinch—but she wasn't. Suzaku knew she was tired, yet she showed no signs of budging.

How irksome.

"Split the army then."

Suzaku narrowed his eyes, skeptical. "Pardon?"

"We can split the army. One for the detective's girl and another to detain that witch." Murugu practically spat, her beak barely containing in her bared snarl.

Suzaku mulled the thought over his head. The suggestion itself was not unappealing, but neither was it perfect. He already knew that the demoness could very well catch up with no matter how many infected humans he'd throw at her with only a few adjustments. Her opponents were, after all, just humans.

No, there was no doubt in Suzaku that she would reach that Yukimura girl as soon as she picked up on his insects' movement. That was probably the dangerous edge about her, her ability to sense way past even an average demon's senses. But then he recalled the way she had rescued that elderly human—the vulnerability in her gaze clear behind false composure, her pleasant shock almost dripping with the need for more when she had received gratefulness. Kindness.

Humanity.

There was deprivation there, then topped with the cautious skittering she showed when she bumped into that Reikai girl, Suzaku could practically taste the unhinged mentality.

At the thought, Murugu's suggestion suddenly become all the more delicious.

If she was caught between saving a human, yet refusing to harm the rest, add with the need to recoil away from that ferry girl. . .

"Perfect."

Without further convincing, Suzaku raised the whistle to his lips, his solution written and ready to issue just as he became aware of the detective's presence nearing his tower.

* * *

 **:)**

 **A little bit of Lan's anguish hinted here. I hope it's not that heavy. I want it noticeable, but subtle. . . that doesn't make any sense, does it? XD**

 **Replies below are from both chapter 6 and 7, because I failed to reply from the last chapter XD**

 **ChineseLady123 \- I'm excited for them to talk face to face as well. Is it bad that I ship my character with Kurama way too much ? Hahaha**

 **sammie - Well, I updated months ago. . . and now a double update XD I'm so sorry**

 **Dagdot** **h** **Fliesh** **\- I would like to update more often, but life isn't letting me. Ha. I'm so sorry for that though, but this is a suprise double update as an apology to my lack of activity XD I'm so glad (and awed) for your patience, my friend. Hope you enjoyed this :)**

 **Edges05 \- Aw, thank you so much! I'm so happy that you love this, and I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the ride as well, despite my frequent (uhm) updates. Thank you for reading!**

 **Now that that's done, you can proceed to the next chapter for the DOUBLE UPDATE!**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"Crime and Punishment"_ by Senju Akira  
Arc soundtrack (Saint Beasts Arc): _"Again"_ by Yui**


	11. Chapter 9

**a/n: Surprise! Double update! As an apology for my lack of activity for the past month. Ha.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER**

 **n|i|n|e**

* * *

 **LAN** pushed herself to be faster, hoping against trepidation that the new melody meant as a sign of panic—a desperate string of last plans to stumble past this trouble and not some elaborate cacophony to box them in, because if not, she wasn't so sure on what to expect if Yusuke did lose.

Yusuke could _not_ lose.

 _'Faster!'_ With a growl building in her chest, Lan threw herself forward, catching the infected human blocking her way by the shoulders. Her grip was vice, unrelenting, and the howl of pain from the human came from her fingers puncturing the skin and drawing blood, staining the once silvery suit in angry crimson.

She winced.

Drawing blood was far from her intention, but Lan had lost most of her caution by now—stripped exhausted by the continuous onslaught of these humans clawing at her in every corner she took. The police were growing haggard at the increase of their numbers, a haze of panic taking over their organization without knowing the source to their crisis to stop it. She had even lost count how many times she had to pull an officer away from a death blow without risking her identity.

Under her watch, there was no death nor lethal injuries. Lan made certain to make it all look as if it was miracle plunging its fingers into this mayhem. A work of God, they said.

She was far from a God.

Using the grip on the deranged's shoulders to hoist herself into a clean flip, Lan didn't release her hold as soon as her feet kissed the cement. Instead, she strained the muscles in her arms to use the human as a form of a bowling ball, sending him crashing into the other group approaching from behind with a cry.

Lan scowled, baring her teeth as she sprinted away once more, stepping over the humans with nothing but a glance before she continued. Fixing them up had long went past her priority now, and being conscious to restrain most to her demonic strength had become a strenuous chore to the point that she often forgot it as time went on. The arrival of the police had both eased and added to her burden, but Lan took what she got and let the officers handle the unconscious ones in making sure they were alright. Nothing more than physical injuries to add to her conscience.

Muttering a garbled curse beneath her breath, Lan caught another mob of infected humans showing up from a corner. A group of twelve, at the very least, each clutching thick steel rods that they immediately raised upon the sight of her. Yet, in her observation, only eight dispatched from the twelve to block her way, the remaining four sauntering away with purpose clear in their steps.

 _'Again.'_ Lan stalled, still unable to decipher the motive from that last play of the whistle fifteen minutes ago. The humans were behaving strangely, and this was yet another sign of their newly created pattern.

For what, she had yet to find out.

 **"KILL!"**

The sound of their feet hitting the ground overshadowed her own quiet ones, quickly forming a half circle as if it would slow her hastened pace into a snail.

Lan momentarily slowed, thoughtful. It would always come to this. Their strength was far from that of a normal human due to the insect plaguing their brain, and coupled with their inability to feel most of the pain, they proved to be a nagging opponent alone. As a group, they were relentless. Their crowding technique had gotten repetitive by the amount of time she'd been sandwiched, but they were slow. Far slower than her reflexes.

And she was in a hurry.

The melody had dictated the infected humans to work together at first. Now, the orders were different. They were moving towards a target. Two targets.

One of them was her.

 _'Damn this._ ' Snapping a heel at one's jaw, Lan seized that opening to grab the rod in the human's grasp and used it to stab the end straight to his chest. Effectively pushing out the makaichu controlling the human, yet before she could even reach out to crush it, the insect flew away, buzzing towards the same direction where the other deranged had gone.

 _'Where are you going?'_

Anxious, Lan twirled the rod in her fingers and crouched down in one motion, sweeping every single one of the humans off their feet before moving forward. She cared not if they went back up and follow, not even if she left them still under the influence of those pesky insects.

Right now, the pounding in her head doubled more in worry.

Yusuke was doing something. She just knew it. The melody may have been sung as melancholy calm as it was prior, but Lan could detect the curl of anger beneath it—bubbling and churning, then firm and unseeing to reason as long as the task was met.

The detective had angered the leader, and she'd been seen as a threat.

Whatever means these demons use to keep up with the situation in the human world, Lan knew she was being observed now that she was being specifically sought out. All she knew was that these deranged humans were somehow segregated into two with each a different task given to. But the other target, Lan didn't know who. It could be Botan—it was very possible that the other mark was Botan. However, honestly speaking, the ferry girl had barely grazed a section of those crazy humans running amok. In her human body, all she could do was within the limitations of a mortal as well. Then, as another contrast to that theory, Lan very well remembered that she had sent Botan in the opposite direction as to where those deranged humans were headed.

But if not Botan, then what was the other target?

A growl nearby reached her ears, low and muffled, but caught. Disrupted from her thoughts, Lan hopped away from the road and took off to the roofs again. Going through the roofs was a faster passage, but a gamble. A risky gamble to neglect all of those infected humans frolic below ground just so she could follow the pull in her gut. With all the assorted knickknacks they wielded as weapons, she was almost tempted to head back on lower grounds just so she could ensure no one else would be harmed. The woman she saved earlier couldn't be the only one at stake, and Lan had all but clung to that pure gratitude she saw in that woman's eyes as her stimulant to push forward.

She could've gone back to Genkai any time she wished. Reikai's problem was none of her business.

But Yusuke was.

Another enraged roar from down below pulled Lan out of her reverie, neck snapping to gaze at the direction where the sound emitted. From her position on a slanted roof of a two-story house, she had the perfect view of a horde of deranged humans barrel towards the same direction as hers, their hands tight onto various objects from the sharpest of scissors to the heaviest of baseball bats and axes. Beneath the rosy glow of the setting sun, their skin nearly resembled the shade of blooming bruises—taut against their bones akin to stretched leather. It made Lan scowl at how bestial they appeared.

The urge to go down there and stop them wrestled against her tensed muscles, but she managed to quell it when something else caught her view.

A school. A harmless, innocent school with its gigantic clock racing against time.

Lan blinked, then suddenly remembered.

Yusuke was a student with little friends to begin with, and one of them was with him at this moment.

Who else does he have that nestled within the confines of his heart?

"Yukimura Keiko."

Without a second thought, Lan darted towards the school. Her feet pounded on the tiled roofs with muted sounds and the grip she had on the rod she had snatched tightened to a degree—temporarily releasing her controlled emotions onto the iron.

Running past the incoming group of infected humans was easy.

Reaching the school in seconds flat had been a breeze.

Now to find the girl.

Forgoing on searching for the proper entrance of the school, Lan leaped over the wall acting as a tall fence surrounding the whole property, landing behind a cloud of bushes that masked her presence from the crowd already stationed inside the school grounds. Just as expected, it was littered with crazed humans sluggishly poking every crevice for Yusuke's friend, their distorted groans filling the air as their shadows flickered about.

The sun dipped down an inch.

Pursing her lips, Lan mentally counted how many she could see, frowning when another addition showed up in the midst of her surveillance. In the end, she concluded the number to be endless: a trickling flood with the amount of people continuously being possessed by the insects hovering above the air, plus with those still on their way to reach the school. Fortunately, the population of the suburbs of Mushiyori was within a number she wouldn't worry about.

Still, she argued that a meager girl is powerless against a crowd.

Lan decided then. She'd have to get rid of this crowd first before she'd plunge into her search for Keiko. More would join later on, and Lan didn't want their numbers piling up as much as possible.

It wasn't an option.

Carefully readying her grip on the rod, Lan balled most of her weight on her heels then pushed; catching an infected human off-guard as she pounced. She used the rod as an extension of her arm to jab it straight towards the chest, then with a twist of her heel, a pointed jab of her shoulder to its lower rib sent the human staggering backwards.

One hand plucked for the insect trying to escape and squeezed.

It was enough to garner the rest of the horde's attention.

"That's it," Lan murmured. "Come to me."

 **"Kill. Kill. . ."** They chanted. A mantra Lan had long used to hear by now. In an instant, her makeshift staff became a blur once more, coiling and recoiling as she twisted around the chaos with balanced ease, fueled by her concentration to deduce the numbers by eliminating the insects within. A few hits managed to land on her back and shoulders, but she responded equally with a swipe of her rod.

 _'Almost,'_ she was reaching the end. Just a few more to go before the group she saw approaching would reach their destination.

 _'Almost.'_ Lan planted the rod on the ground and sent her leg to kick backwards, toes pointed when she changed direction for a double hit before she twirled around, using her leg to swipe them off their feet.

 _'Almost.'_ Her throat constricted in panic when more trickled in from the entrance gate, her mind fiddling to hurry because she has to reach Keiko.

A bold _must_ that threatened to take over her cautious actions.

 _'Almost!'_ Just six more. Lan growled low in her chest, jaw clenching as a bead of sweat innocently trailed down her cheek.

But it wasn't out of exhaustion.

In an abrupt sense of realization, Lan noticed the tremors wrecking her limbs. Subtle at first, yet it grew and grew until her fingers felt loose around the rod she carried. Then without warning, her lungs sucked in air too much just as her blood froze, stricken as each human fell down to her feet, unconscious.

Humans who were just trudging to their work this morning.

Humans who just stopped by to the grocery on their way home.

Humans who were just living.

And she was hurting them without any form of restraint in her mind and body.

 _Just like before._

 _'No.'_ Lan gritted her teeth. Steeled her mind, fought through her tremors and swung her rod. _'I am not killing anyone.'_

Lan took a second to grind her dark thoughts into dust, small yet lingering, her throat dry as her fist caught against someone's throat. The sensation of flesh caving beneath her knuckles tore away a thread locking her old memories.

A phantom weight of someone's hand on her shoulder whispered panic deep into her soul.

 _"Kill for me."_

"I am not killing anyone. . . I'm—" she dug her two fingers on another's chest again, ignoring the garbled choke it emitted. "I'm protecting!"

Like water, the word bathed Lan anew, a fire building from the bottom of her chest before swallowing her whole.

It wasn't enough to extinguish the shadows deep inside her head, but it was enough to send them cowering for now.

Lan squared her shoulders, purpose hard in her eyes as she remembered what she was doing and who she was doing it for. It took her a while to fumble for answers, but she'll settle for Yusuke for now.

For now.

A scream from a distance froze the air into a standstill, halting the movements of the deranged into graphite limbs while Lan—Lan felt cold realization drench her core.

The voice wasn't familiar to her ears, but the feminine tone pitched high with fear and agony already gave Lan the idea as to who it was.

Just then, more of the infected humans entered the property. Lan wrinkled her nose at their distinguished scent masking the whole area, prominent and screaming in every direction she turned to. Going by her nose was out of the question.

So despite that her ears nearly bled at the scream, Lan moved before any of the humans could. She swept them off their feet again with her rod and ran towards the source. She circled the school towards the near back, pushing her already straining senses further to try and catch the voice drowned beneath the distorted groans and grunts in the air. Catching a human scent amidst the stench was a minuscule chance, but Lan tried to anyways, bearing through the stench with nothing but a disgusted scoff.

When she reached the back of the school, Lan stealthily slid close to a wall, using an angle wherein she'd be able to see the whole area without revealing herself.

There were more infected people here than in the front.

They were looking for something. That was obvious by their swiveling heads hoping for a glimpse of the detective's friend. One of them, a tall man whose maniacal gaze was obscured behind a pair of glasses, hovered over the thick shrubs and bushes, sneering beneath the hook of his nose with a snarl.

Lips pursing when nothing seemed to hint the presence of a human, Lan was about to turn around, deciding to harbor stealth seeing as she was a target as well. Displaying herself as bait could give the girl a slim chance for escape, but Lan did not plan on risking the situation wherein she can't reach Keiko in time.

However, just as when she took a step forward, Lan heard something; a voice—no. _Two_ voices. Soon, a static crack followed.

A sound that Lan recognized as the one that followed when Yusuke contacted that reikai girl through that tiny mirror.

 _'Botan._ '

Lan changed directions as quick as she could, gripping the rod tighter as she bolted towards where the whispers came from.

She could hear Yusuke's voice!

Encouraged by that thought, Lan reached it in time just as the bespectacled man she saw earlier tore through the bushes shielding the two girls.

"NO!"

* * *

It was really was a daunting coincidence. A cliche found only within overwritten plots of flowery thrillers.

A girl all alone in a big setting, the sun creeping down to paint the sky a rosy hue with clouds that resembled clotted blood; and the antagonist.

In her situation, it was in the form of her professor, known stiffly for his abhoration towards Yusuke.

In all honesty, Keiko didn't want anything to do with him in that afternoon, her pride still sore from having been left alone in that cinema when Yusuke decided to bail along with Kuwabara. She could see the idiot doing it, but never from Kuwabara. Keiko had genuinely regarded him as a walking sugar with an awkward gait.

But no. Keiko had been overjoyed, almost to the point of crying to have Yusuke back.

And then he ditched her.

Lost in a sea of offended stabs of needles to her heart, Keiko dragged herself back to school in favor of doing some student council work. There was no harm in making advance work, but she of all people knew that it was just a rouse to distract herself from the anger.

That was her intention. The only intention.

Keiko definitely did not see being chased around the school with these eery people holding up sharp objects that could potentially kill her.

 **"Die, Yukimura!"**

Scratch that, they wanted to kill her.

With a terrified scream, Keiko ducked down to avoid the fist aimed for her head, using the wall to steady herself before stumbling down the hall. Her heels clacked down with every step, probably attracting attention—but she didn't care.

Keiko just wanted to get out.

"Ah!" Keiko rushed to a stop, just in time to escape from running straight towards another maniac. She briefly recognized the face as a teacher, but couldn't in her frenzied mind put a name to him.

 **"Die. . ."**

Against her will, a whimper escaped past her lips. Disgusted and frozen in fear at the disturbing way their lips moved to utter just one word. One morbid word filled with an intent she couldn't fathom.

 **"Yukimura!"**

Acting on instinct, Keiko used her small frame to her advantage and sidled to the side to get to the stairs, narrowly missing a hit to the head by a fire extinguisher.

She bolted.

Down and down the stairs with not even a glance back. Keiko didn't want to acknowledge the distorted groans following behind her, nor did she wanted to see the glinting objects they were clutching that had all fleeting graze the skin on her arms.

Keiko wanted to cry, but couldn't.

 **"YUKIMURA!"**

The urge to cry was lost in her terror, yet a sly tear slipped past and went straight down to the edge of her mouth.

When she reached the bottom floor, Keiko didn't even think about the school policy (to heck with _rules!_ ) and dashed out of the door without changing her shoes.

They were _everywhere_.

"No. . ." Keiko staggered, knees shaking and lips wobbling in frustration. "N-No. . . No, no, no!"

More and more of those blue-tinged people appeared from the gate, and they all flashed an uncanny grin at her.

She ran.

Ran and ran. Keiko headed towards the back of the school, mentally scolding herself because there was no exit there. She'll be killed.

She'll be dead.

Dead.

 **"Yukimura!"**

Keiko screamed, backing away to the safety of the wall as Iwamoto came back to haunt her, reaching out to grip the short strands of her hair. She screamed again, this time in pain.

"Please!" She cried, the twinge in her scalp blinding her vision. "L-Let me go!"

In response, Iwamoto cackled, tightening his grip that sent excruciating pain to her scalp. Without even thinking, Keiko stepped on his foot, glad that her shoes actually has heels. No matter the length.

Instead of howling in pain, Iwamoto simply grunted in annoyance, but his grip loosened. That was all Keiko needed.

She bolted again, not caring that she looked like a sobbing mess. Her heart was pounding in fear and adrenaline—she wanted to live! Her head was aching but she ran.

Keiko ran.

And was pulled into a bed of shrubs from behind.

"AH—"

"It's me!"

Keiko tensed, shoulders still heavy with fear as she looked at who pulled her down.

And there, dressed in suspicious clothing with a baseball bat lying by her heels with pale hands firmly steadying her shoulders, Keiko recognized the odd girl Yusuke suddenly started hanging out with two months ago.

"Y-You're that girl!" Keiko rushed all in one exhale, partly relieved that she wasn't alone and glad that it wasn't a stranger. Not that Keiko had interacted with this girl before, but knowing that she was a friend of Yusuke was enough.

Where was he?

"Are you hurt?" asked the other woman, fingers probing Keiko gently for injuries as her pinkish gaze examined her state.

"I-I'm fine." Her head hurt, but she'll live. "I just—can you tell me what's going on?"

Instead of a straight answer—to Keiko's chagrin—the woman simply peered through the leaves of the bushes, frowning as those people chasing her began to spread throughout the area. They were surrounded, both of them knew, a fact that clutched Keiko's heart in fear.

She wanted to go home.

She wanted to be safe.

She wanted Yusuke.

"This is bad." The woman absentmindedly mumbled to herself, a thoughtful crease appearing between her brows as her lips thinned.

Without another word, Keiko watched, almost transfixed, as the woman reached inside her leather jacket, fishing out a small compact object that resembled a tiny, round mirror for makeup. But when it was flipped open, Keiko was stunned to see a veil of static appear instead of a clear mirror.

"Yusuke? Yusuke, this is Botan."

Keiko nearly doubled in shock, if it weren't for the need to remain quiet. _'What does this got to do with Yusuke?'_

Confused, afraid and thoroughly shaken, Keiko desperately searched for a calm hold within her to bear through this chaos. Her mind was continuously trying to piece together puzzles that didn't fit together, and her knuckles had turned white from gripping onto the fabric of her skirt. Something that she herself hadn't even noticed.

"Yusuke? Come on, hurry up and answer already. Please!"

Soon, after eternal seconds, the static in the tiny compact cleared and Yusuke's face appeared. Strained and wearing that familiar glare Keiko had become accustomed to over the years.

But this time, there was a strain evident in his gaze that fell way past his age could carry.

"What?!" He panted, the faint sounds of hurried footsteps coming from the communication device.

Angling the device a tad, Botan let Keiko peer in better to see Yusuke. "We have a problem."

Yusuke nearly tripped. "KEIKO?! What is she—what are you doing there? Botan, what's going on?"

"Nothing good." Botan started, carefully glancing between the clusters of leaves to watch the crowd in the field scatter about. "I had to come and get her at your school, Yusuke. She's in danger."

That was enough to root the boy in place, face ashen as cold disbelief widened his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Botan regretted having to tell the news, but did what has to be done. "She's been set as a target, Yusuke. They're all out to hunt her."

This time, Botan met Keiko's terrified gaze, hoping to give her a smidgeon of hope with a a determined gaze.

"Hunt?" Yusuke pushed, jaw clenching as he stared at Keiko's profile next to Botan.

She knew the device wouldn't offer much footage, but Botan was certain that the detective could very well picture the face of the brunette perfectly in his mind's eye.

"Yes," Botan nodded, grim and concerned as she clutched the device closer to her now. She and Keiko didn't have much time left, all there was needed to make sure was to relay the message clear to Yusuke in order to save Keiko. The town. Everyone.

They were alone, and all Botan had was a mere bat.

"They're hunting to kill, Yusuke." She added, watching as sheer white panic paled Yusuke's features. Briefly, Botan managed to catch a glimpse of Kuwabara's hair at the back, muttering something about having his suspicions confirmed while Kurama's voice—clear and stern despite being out of sight—reached her ears.

"Are you two by yourselves?"

Botan nodded, answering the question for her. "And surrounded."

"Dammit!" Yusuke cursed again. And again. A string of violent promises once he reached the leader's lair. Botan hoped he'll fulfill them.

"This must have been a new order from the whistle." Botan hurried. "You have to hurry befo—"

The bush behind them was torn apart, exposing their backs to danger.

 _'Oh, no.'_

 **"There you are!"**

For what must've been the third time today, Keiko screamed in fright, her muscles locking despite her urge to run as her insane professor gazed down upon them, the glint given by his glasses adding more to his mad aura.

"NO!" Keiko closed her eyes shut, waiting for the blow to land.

Except that it didn't.

A pained grunt in front of her forced Keiko to open her eyes in curiosity.

There was another woman, one equally as odd and beautiful as Botan was in a different manner.

And she was currently wrapping her thighs around her professor's neck, strangling him as she perched on his broad shoulders while a long, steel rod tipped his jaw in an awkward, painful angle.

She raised her head until Keiko caught a pair of dark blues glaring at her. "Move!"

Botan didn't waste a second.

Dropping the compact device in favor of grabbing Keiko's hand, Botan pulled her out of harm's way and reached for her bat with the other, clutching it like a lifeline as they scurried out of the way.

"Are you hurt?" Botan had to make sure, gripping Keiko a little too tightly in her worry. When the brunette nodded in assurance, both of them glanced back to see the scuffle behind them.

Taut and grim at the dangerous situation of life and death.

The thought pushed bile in the back of Keiko's throat and she nearly gagged, clapping a hand to cover her whimpering lips as she watched the newcomer struggle with her professor. The tiny compact device lay crushed a few feet away, having taken the brunt of Iwamoto's stumbling feet as the woman used the rod to steer him around by the jaw.

"Who's that?" Keiko gasped.

Hesitant, Botan became unsure on how to answer. Because even she herself didn't even know who the woman was to Yusuke.

"A friend of Yusuke's." She eventually answered. "She'll help us."

Keiko doubted Botan's words, simply because of the lack of confidence in her voice. But the second the new woman flipped off Iwamoto's back once she had him ran towards a wall, Keiko shoved the criticism aside in favor for the situation at hand.

The noise from their scuffle had caught several pairs of yellowed gazes and had begun trudging their way towards them.

Keiko swallowed her whimper.

The new woman bounded towards them as soon as Iwamoto was taken care of, her back straight and shoulders rigid like a soldier's. Beneath the fabric of some Chinese-themed attire, Keiko could define a hint of muscle flex when the woman twirled the rod in her grip in a swift swing, hitting a crazed person sneaking from behind.

Keiko sucked in a breath. Throughout her relationship with Yusuke, violence was a regular occurrence to handle with. It was vulgar, undisciplined and an entire morale of nonsense in her opinion. Yet, a simple demonstration from this stranger had Keiko describing it as elegant. Smooth and clean.

And all the more frightening.

The woman pushed out of the shrubs, her rod held ready. Then with a glance over her shoulder, she gestured for both Keiko and Botan. "Follow me."

Botan nodded, staggering up to her feet as she pulled Keiko along with her, her bat bravely held before her despite the worried glance she gave towards the brunette. "We have to get out of here."

From her peripheral, Botan observed as Lan surveyed their situation. They were circled—cornered against a wall with only the two of them separating the infected humans from Keiko.

"No."

Botan nearly choked.

Lan continued before the ferry girl could yell her frustrations, casting a quick glance over her shoulder to see Keiko still on the verge of panic and terror, unwillingly finding herself as the protagonist of a nightmare.

Lan centered her attention back to Botan to finish her words. "We have to keep these people limited within this property. If we chance to go out, they will be more casualties that may suffer and more to worry about." Her words were hurried as her eyes drank in their surroundings. Surveying every window above, every corner and shadows enabled by the setting sun, and all the few openings left by the approaching horde.

"But it's not safe here!" Botan argued back, a quick second of her bravado crumbling before she covered it up. "The school can't hide us for a long time, there's too many of them."

"As much as it would keep as trapped, that's our only option!" Lan snapped back, scowl deep as she eyed the group carefully approaching them. "If we go out, more civilians would be involved and we'll have a bigger mess upon us. We have to stay and stall for as long as possible until Yusuke handles that whistle. We have to be smart with angles, use illusions if need be. But as much as possible, we have to fight and get rid of those insects nestling inside them."

"How do we even do that?!"

"Leave that to me." Lan reassured, grip tightening on her rod as she finally saw an adequate opening that could get them through the crowd unharmed.

To her credit, the ferry girl seemed to have noticed the etch of a plan clear in Lan's eyes. Botan didn't question her, but gestured for Keiko to come closer to her instead and got ready.

Lan shifted her stance just as the crowd got near. "Grab her hand."

Then she moved. Quick and unforgiving as a python.

And without a word, Botan followed, dragging Keiko behind as Lan carved the path for them, swinging her bat when some of those Lan hit refused to stay down. She had to upped her speed just to catch up with the demoness, but with the adrenaline feeding their system, both she and Keiko managed with little problem.

"Over here!" Lan called, barging out of the crowd with the two behind her, legs pushing and straining to run for their lives. For a brief moment, Lan was tempted to haul the human over her shoulder for quicker movement, but figured it would be a grave mistake sooner or later. That would hinder her reflex.

"The gym!" Keiko managed to gasp out a suggestion between her pants, gritting her teeth to fight the burn on her calves from running.

Smacking another infected human out of the way, Lan suddenly took a sharp turn, diving inside an shabby-looking storage room perpendicular to the towering gym in sight.

Botan paused. "I think we should go to the gym—hey!"

Lan didn't let her finish, yanking the ferry girl by the wrist along with Keiko to hobble inside the cramped space. With a prompt yet careful push, Lan clicked the door shut, bolting the lock and securing it with a heavy container half full of weight discs with a pant.

She wrinkled her nose at the heavy smell of sweat.

"We lost them for now, but they will catch up in no time. In any case, the gym will be the first building in sight when they round the corner. With its size, this storage room would have been invisible to any unobservant eye." Lan hurried her explanation as she stalked passed Botan and Keiko, raising a stiff arm to use her sleeve as a cover for her nose from the strong sweaty air.

Dozens of pesky students must've escaped here for their less than innocent minglings day by day if the putrid smell of body fluids was this strong.

Pushing that thought out of her mind, Lan's goal was the small, square window at the very back of the room; the only one providing what little light inside the dark and dusty space.

"Wouldn't they eventually find this place?" Keiko dared to ask, shuffling closer towards Botan with a frown. The dark of the room made her paranoid, almost, but she had to agree with what the woman said. The gym was far too obvious whilst the storage room was as discrete as a mouse, both in size and its position amidst tall trees.

"In seconds, perhaps, yes." Lan answered, mentally calculating the height of the window for the human's sake. "I've been observing them for a while now. They grow considerably more intelligent with time."

Keiko blanched.

Noticing the brunette's distress, Botan took a step forward, eyeing the small window Lan had been standing beneath. The height of said window was about a head taller than the two of them, maybe two for Keiko, but not impossible. "So what's your plan?"

"Deception," Lan replied, albeit muffled by her sleeve. "Using the gym as the attraction. We use this sliver of opportunity to get away from them." When she finished, she craned her neck to gaze at the window. Small, but enough to fit their sizes through.

Steeling herself for a second or two, Lan gestured for Botan to approach first, setting her stolen rod aside before she leaned her back against the wall right below the window. Knees bent and hands conjoined to form a step. All too quickly, the musky scent attacked her sense of smell, leaving a distinct taste on her tongue that was far from pleasant.

"Scan the surroundings first." Lan said to Botan.

With an affirmed nod, Botan backed a little bit for a running start, flashing Keiko a confident thumbs up to ease the furrow of her brows. "Here I go."

Botan ran, stepping onto Lan's awaiting palms while her hands reached for the edge of the window. It was somewhat slippery with amount of dust, but she managed. Lan had lifted her a little bit with ease, jaw clenched just so Botan could slid the glass window open and tentatively poke her head out.

"Safe."

"Good." With a nod, Lan hoisted Botan all the way up until her feet was scraping against the wall for leverage. She stared as the ferry girl wiggled her way out with some difficulty, hands clutching the sides of the window just so she could situate her legs out first to avoid falling on her head. And once Botan was good, she jumped down. Making nothing but a soft thud and a suppressed grunt.

"I'm all right!"

Satisfied, Lan went back to her position and gestured for Keiko next. "Your turn."

With a rock lodged in her throat, Keiko hesitated. She was unsure. More than unsure. Her fear was palpable at this point, but her wish to live was stronger. Louder.

"What's your name?"

The question was out of the blue, entirely unfitting in their situation. But Keiko had to know. Her question seemed to have thrown the stranger off-guard, blue eyes rounding in surprise that had Keiko appreciating the color. The pink hue of Botan's had been mesmerizing, but Keiko had never thought of blue eyes being this crystal clear. They were common in the west, yet on the stranger, Keiko had to say she made it look almost alien.

"It's not important."

Keiko frowned, parting her lips to argue further when the stranger gave her a pointed look.

 _'Right. We don't have much time.'_

So after copying Botan's technique, Keiko had a running start before stepping onto the offered hands, making sure her weight wasn't grounded and mentally thanking all her active participation in sports. It would've been more difficult if her body wasn't used to this.

Lan had to hoist Keiko up higher than Botan to make up for the human's stature. Other than that, the process was quick, with Keiko pretty much mimicking the ferry girl's method before dropping.

With Botan helping from the other side, Lan didn't have to worry. Glancing at the blocked door, she deemed it enough to hold off the deranged groups long enough to stall time, giving enough impression that they may have been hiding here all these time.

"Watch out!" Snatching back the steel rod with one hand, Lan tossed it through the window first after her call, causing a yelp of surprise coming from Botan. Something of which the demoness paid no attention of whatsoever. Once her hands were free, Lan pushed from the balls of her feet and leaped up high. Passing through the window with relative ease to land safely on both feet.

Keiko had to blink several times.

"Here you go," Botan smiled—relieved, unsure and grateful all at once. She offered the rod back with a playful lilt of her voice. "You're quite an acrobat, aren't you?"

Lan accepted the rod with the tiniest hint of a frown, eyeing the ferry girl with guarded tension.

She ignored the playful (harmless) probe with disdain.

"This way." Lan turned, brisk and distant, effectively killing the smile on Botan's face in her small attempt of friendliness.

The path behind the storage room leading back to the main building was narrow and secluded at most, shadowed by the thick trees with the angle offered by the setting sun. Despite it, Lan made sure the two walked close to the walls while she kept her ears trained on any nearby sounds that might threaten their presence. For a while, it was nothing but the sound of their soft footfalls did Lan detect, crunching the trimmed grass like pins stabbing a cushion. All of them were on edge given the situation, eyeing the gaps between the row of trees and bushes as they moved slowly.

When the first sign of the infected's approach, Lan idly raised a finger, motioning for the two to stop and position themselves behind the thick trunks of the trees for the mean time.

"Don't move until I say so." She mumbled, pointedly glancing at the ferry girl to calm down the brunette. Keiko was surprisingly handling the situation better than expected, but Lan could not fault her for the brief hitch of her breath and the slight buckle of her knees.

Botan nodded, taking a stance before Keiko in preparation. Just in case.

When the horde of humans finally caught up, Lan had to grit her teeth in irritation, ignoring the clap of shock engulfing the other two when they gasped.

The group had doubled. More than Lan could count in her position, but their numbers have clearly increased, ranging from people coming from outside the school premises clad in varying every day attires, while others appeared to be part of the school staff. There were some—a rare few—that were once students of the school, wearing the same kind of uniform Keiko was. They were sluggish now without either of their targets in sight, yet none of them could dare underestimate the situation.

None of them dared to even breathe.

Lan frowned, a twinge of regret hitting her when she had forwent terminating the makai insects dwelling inside the deranged humans she had encountered. She could have lessened their numbers.

 _'No use mulling over it now.'_

"Let's go." Lan muttered at last, watching as all the deranged humans went towards the gym as she had surmised, the light glinting against the silver of their weapons.

"H-Hey," Keiko whispered, straying closer towards Botan as they moved forward, occasionally flicking her gaze at those maniacal humans on a rampage. It was almost funny how unbelievable their situation was, moving behind trees with the three of them against. . . how many. "Why don't we try going to the teachers' longue?"

Eyes widening in realization, a wide beam nearly engulfed half of Botan's face, a strike of hope filling her eyes at the suggestion. "That's right! Someone could still be there!"

Keiko nodded, picturing the kindhearted face of their principal. Amidst all this madness, he was literally the only person Keiko could think of that could extend a helping hand. Truthfully, she thought of Kuwabara first, recalling how the ginger and Yusuke began their knitted friendship after years of rivalry. But the ginger was dragged by Yusuke himself before everything started, and that was the last Keiko had seen them both.

"Lower your voice." Muttering the warning in front of them, Lan fleetingly narrowed her eyes at the ferry girl, unfazed by the latter's sheepish grin before addressing the Keiko. "You will have to lead the way."

Lan wanted to take her words back as soon as they strolled past her lips, gripped by a sense of burning foreboding. The teachers' lounge, whatever that was, did not appease her caution to avoid danger.

What was even there?

"Sure." Keiko nodded, her gaze wavering and yet, she pulled at whatever bravery she has left. The least she could do was try to not act like a burden.

Eventually, after threading overly careful and silent, they made it back to the main building of the school, taking the quietest route that Lan made sure would be empty by her hearing and nose. The teachers' lounge was located in one of the higher floors, as Keiko had repeatedly ushered Lan the quickest directions towards the room. On the way there, they spotted a phone booth. A sight that garnered equal sighs of relief from both Keiko and Botan, with the former running towards it to try and contact the authorities.

Lan hung back, brows twitching in confusion at the device. She was familiar with its complicated appearance, there were lots stationing every corner in some parts of the city just for its purpose. More so out of the country. How to operate it, on the other hand, Lan never bothered to learn.

"The line's been cut." Keiko announced, the hope crumbling from her face at the simple fact after setting down the phone with a soft click.

"I'm afraid they are growing smarter by the second." Botan attempted to console, yet her words made Lan frown, her mind flashing back to the numerous clashes she had had against those infected people.

"They are observant," Lan mumbled, more so to herself than to the others. "And adaptive." _'We have to be careful with whatever tricks we pull up next. The more we use one, the more they will anticipate it.'_

"Let's go." Botan pushed, gesturing for them to move on and for Keiko to lead the way.

With a nod, Keiko led them to continue to their destination, steps careful and quiet while Botan held her bat defensively. Grip tight and flexing in every turn they took. Lan brought up the rear this time, glancing down the flight of stairs they took for any signs of someone following. Her nose would've sufficed in sensing someone along with her ears, but adrenaline urged her to take precautions.

It was getting too quiet. _Too_ quiet.

She tightened her grip around her rod.

When they reached the lounge, Keiko cracked open the door with a little bit too much enthusiasm, hands shaking as she caught sight of their principal just sitting by his desk.

Motionless.

"Takenaka-sensei!" Keiko gasped, shoving away the odd thought why their principal was just sitting there doing nothing while his staff and students wrecked the grounds.

Going in after Keiko and Botan respectively, Lan headed straight towards the windows, slowly sliding one pane open to peer outside. The sky was getting darker by the minute, the pinkish tint blooming into a darker hue. It hit Lan then just how long this fiasco was stretching out and she vaguely wondered what Genkai was doing back at the temple. Not that the psychic would wonder about her presence, this kind of absence was a norm for both of them back in the days. As if Lan's feet couldn't find it in themselves to rest.

Shaking the thought out of her mind, Lan looked down—then glared.

 _'They're everywhere.'_

Their growth isn't going to stop any time soon, Lan knew. Even the air carried their scent now, oozing upwards with nowhere else to go.

It was in that exact moment—with their scent polluting the air—did Lan missed the one who got in behind them.

"Takenaka-sensei, we need your help! The people outside are trying to—"

 **"Yukimura!"**

Lan whirled around. _"Shit_ — _!_ _"_

It was that man. The same, bespectacled man whom Lan had steered into a wall with a tilt of her rod on his vulnerable jaw.

And he was holding a knife.

A quick glance towards Keiko and Botan told Lan all what she needed to know. The principal was beaten out cold on his desk.

Frozen at the turn of events, Keiko let out another blood curdling scream.

When the knife was brought down, Lan rushed and rammed straight towards Botan, subsequently pushing Keiko out of the way as well so when the knife went down—it landed on Lan's shoulder.

"RUN!"

* * *

Suzaku was enjoying himself, basking in the thrill of what he could inflict with nothing but a play of a note.

The detective had the most wonderful face of fury Suzaku has ever seen. Brown eyes melting in that intricate mix of hopeless rage.

All because of that tiny girl.

"You should consider yourself fortunate, Urameshi Yusuke. Not everyone has the opportunity to watch their mate walk straight towards death."

Lips curling smugly, Suzaku dared to gaze fondly at the wide screen behind him showing the pair of women running blindly down the hall of the school. The other one—the one with that lilac hair—was left behind to take care of that one infected human, which was followed by many more.

Suzaku couldn't help the laugh.

They were separated. _Finally._

"Those two wouldn't last without the other one," Suzaku totted with a shake of his head. "Shame."

Shoulders tensing at the claim, Yusuke glared, face scrunching in wrath as he bared his teeth. "You think you can control me like this?! I'll make you regret playing Mozart, you asshole!"

Fists clenching with all of his pent-up anger, Yusuke charged forward, greeting Suzaku with a flurry of solid punches as both his rage and panic continued to feed him. He clenched his jaw in irritation when the leader of the Saint Beasts blocked every pull of his punches with just one hand, the other protectively holding the gnarled flute away from his grasp.

That twisted curl of his lips only made Yusuke seethe more, pouring all of his strength in his punches and all of his aggravation in his kicks—glaring right into Suzaku's icy gaze the whole time whilst doing so.

At the very least, the hint of shock in Suzaku's eyes comforted Yusuke to a minimum.

In the next second, when Yusuke delivered another punch, his fist met nothing by air. Empty and void when Suzaku leaped high into the air to dodge.

His jaw ticked. "Stupid choice, Pied Piper."

Gathering some of his spirit energy into the tip of his index finger, Yusuke narrowed his eyes up at Suzaku, aiming the incoming blast right at him—and fired.

"Eat this, you bastard!"

Time seemed to have slowed down, dragging the blast into a snail pace while Suzaku remained hovering in thin air. The blast itself was magnificent, akin to a large burning star brimming with power.

The detective was far stronger than Suzaku could admit.

But still not strong enough to be in par with him.

When the blast of reigan almost reached him, Suzaku sent it barreling towards another direction with a swing of his fist, hitting the roof of his tower and disintegrating a large chunk of it into smithereens.

Stunned, Yusuke was left gawking as a couple of bricked stones rained down next to him. "No way."

Suzaku let himself smirk, gracefully landing himself back on the ground with not a strand out of place. At eased that, despite the fall of his fellow Saint Beasts, his goal shall meet its success.

He can defeat the detective.

"Strong," Suzaku mused, casually shaking his hand with mocking whistle from his lips. "Very strong. Too bad that you missed, didn't you, Urameshi Yusuke?"

It was impossible. A truth denied—and yet here Yusuke stood, unsettled with his teeth grinding his frustration. His mind reeled at the simple deflection of his spirit gun.

A month of training with Genkai and Lan had done nothing to prepare him against Suzaku.

He deflected his reigan with an seemingly _effortless_ swat.

"Do you want me to hold onto the whistle, Suzaku-sama?"

Frowning, Yusuke glared at the bird as she fluttered down, wings beating in tune with that overly sweetened voice she had. Grating to the point of making Yusuke cringe.

"No need." Suzaku shook his head. "One hand is enough."

Yusuke growled to himself at the insult.

He glanced at the screen. Lan was hurrying to catch up with Botan and Keiko.

Clenching his fists, Yusuke swallowed the ugly taste on his mouth. He trusts Lan, but the need to be _there_ was just too overwhelming.

 _'Shit.'_

From the jagged hole of the roof, lightning shrieked akin to a raging serpent, curling around the murky sky in twig-like tendrils. The lightning cracked once—twice, accompanied with the blow of the merciless wind entering the tower through the large hole.

Suzaku raised his free arm, palm facing the heavens as the last crack of lightning swallowed what little left of the darkness inside the tower, the electric crackles racing towards the awaiting palm of Suzaku to feed the growing ball of demonic energy on his hand. The energy itself made breathing difficult, but when the lightning crashed down on the tower, Yusuke had to brace himself from the impact shaking the floor beneath his feet.

It was monstrous.

Far from the likes of the Genbu, Byakko and Seiryuu.

"Fuck this!" Yusuke cried, shielding his eyes with his arm when the light blinded his vision. _'How in the hell can he hold lightning?! No one can just casually grab lightning!'_

"I would warn you to brace yourself," Suzaku crowed. "But it wouldn't make any difference anyway."

The words flew over Yusuke's head like nothing, and in his usual bout of cocksure stubbornness, he chose to ignore the warning bells in his head and rushed forward to meet Suzaku's attack head on.

His plan changed.

Damn the fight.

Damn winning.

Damn Koenma and whatever reasons his pathetic pacifier spews out.

Damn this.

Yusuke rushed on forward, his eyes solely on the gnarled whistle.

Keiko was in trouble and Botan had gotten herself mixed in with the death parade by choosing to protect the former. Lan was hanging onto thin thread fighting more than half of the infected population preventing her from joining Keiko and Botan. And lastly, Kuwabara, Kurama and Hiei were beating those spinach people in the same manner Lan was doing in the human world.

This was endless.

And endless parade.

He has to stop that. Suzaku can die after.

"Give me that!" Pulled by his need to protect, Yusuke scrambled for the whistle, ducking down just in time to dodge the full blow of Suzaku's lightning energy.

It grazed his arm.

"AAARGH!"

Out of the blue, sizzling and burning pain shot from the soles of his feet up to the strands of Yusuke's hair and he screamed—screamed from the bottom of his lungs as he felt his blood literally boil beneath his skin.

Locked by the shock, Yusuke fell to his knees.

He didn't manage to grab the whistle.

Suzaku hummed, extinguishing the lightning with a flick of his wrist. Behind him, Murugu cackled in amusement, absolutely cherishing the way Yusuke writhed on the cobbled floor like some flopping fish.

 _'Crap,'_ Yusuke willed himself to get up, pushing on his hands despite the twinging pain stuttering his ascent. _'Fuck, that hurt like a bitch_ — _and_ _I know I dodged it.'_

In his focus to stand through the pain, Yusuke missed the approaching footsteps coming towards him, drowned out by the ringing in his ears and the pounding in his head.

Step. Step.

 _'Damn it, STAND UP!'_

"I must admit, you are a peculiar fellow, Urameshi Yusuke. No one has ever come out alive after that blow." An electric crack flickered from the tips of Suzaku's fingers, looking down from his nose to watch the detective scramble on his hands and knees. "Your spirit energy is unexpectedly stronger than the ones King Enma sent to me before. You should be proud." He smirked, drained out of humor and replaced by cruel recollection. Yet when he looked at Yusuke, his expression faded into a sneer.

Looking at him as if he was a roach failing to die.

"Enough games, detective." Suzaku scoffed in irritation, sending a current of starling yellow to lash at the floor. "You surprised me, but that's all you have. Not you nor any of your friends can soil my plans. I'd hate to kill wasted potential, so why don't you stay down and watch the end of your mate?"

"Wrong!" Yusuke grunted, locking an elbow to hold himself up. "Keiko's tougher than you think and she's never going to follow any plot for your bedtime story." Pushing himself to stand back up almost felt as impossible as moving a damn building, but Yusuke moved through his tremors to stand back up on his feet. He didn't need to see to know how weak he looked next to Suzaku, but hell did he care anyway.

Toeing off his shoes, Yusuke bent down, biting on his tongue to swallow the cry as he slipped his hands in the holes of his shoes.

Distraction was not of his forte. Never was. It required too much forward thinking for his impetuous and bullheaded method. But just like what Kuwabara did earlier, Yusuke was going to take Lan's words into an account.

Words that had guided his training and became the spine of his competitive need to bring down his sparring partner.

 **x**

 _"Expected."_

 _He rolled away._

 _"Plain."_

 _He spun a kick._

 _"You are purposely making me read your movements."_

 _Ticked, he delivered his usual one-two punch._

 _And got himself a jelly arm._

 _Raising the two fingers she used to tap a pressure point, Lan arched a brow at his glaring self. Bemused and unfazed by the sneer marring his features. "You need to learn how to use distraction."_

 _He snorted. "Yeah, I don't know if you've heard, but the ghoul usually reminds us every two hours about how small my brain is. Pay attention, Lan, I can't do shit like that."_

 _In a second flat (or less), Yusuke found himself staring at the clear sky on his back, his forehead and still processing the pain from Lan's roundhouse._

 _"That is not what I meant." Without mercy, Lan simply sat beside his head with no intention of helping him up. "I am aware of your fighting skill. You rely heavily on muscle memory and that can be read as an advantage or as a disadvantage."_

 _". . . Explain."_

 _Lan smiled wryly. "You are spontaneous. No pattern, but at your level, your movements are still too slow to use your muscle memory to an advantage. In other words, you are easy to deduce. However, a split-second distraction could save you from a critical situation. You are innovative, you should be able to think of a sly way to throw off your enemies just enough for them to rethink through your pattern."_

 **x**

Yusuke smirked, punching his shoe-clad hands together. He had gotten faster over his stay with Genkai, and he's damn well innovative from the way he defeated Hiei. The one with Rando wasn't done on purpose, but it could count as innovative, right?

He can bullshit his way through this.

"Come at me, you bastard!"

* * *

 **:)**

 **Almost through! I'm so excited because then we'll finally start some Kurama/Lan action. Though from my drafts, I'm not quite lenient towards their progress XD I'm making them work for it.**

 **Constructive criticism are appreciated, guys. Please let me know of your thoughts in the review. I wasn't entirely sure of the Yusuke/Suzaku mini-battle at the end, but I've been rewriting it too much and finally decided enough is enough and stop being a perfectionist. A fanfic is, after all, a practice for me to grow as a writer. So do give me your thoughts :)**

 **'Til next time.**

 **Chapter soundtrack: _"Anguish of the Quirkless"_ by Hayashi Yuki  
Arc soundtrack (Saint Beast Arc): _"Again"_ by Yui**


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